#hope someone got them and got some use out of them all

[uravitypng]

𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲

pairing: yandere satoru gojo x chubby reader

summary: at the beginning gojo made your life hell when he first sees you because you won't give him attention. then it all changes, he just hated seeing you cry and he'll use all his resources and power to love you and spoil you

word count: 14.7k words

a/n: okay okay! i'm back! with something incredibly longer compared to every other oneshot i've written. i started this before gojo's birthday but it just kept getting longer and longer, then came the holidays and then i got ill too but it's finally finished, yay! i hope you all enjoy this and of course like always make sure you read the warnings before reading x

content warnings: gojo is a yandere!! friends to lovers, hints of stalking, gojo manipulates everyone, mentions of breeding, fingering, rough unprotective sex, cumming inside, gojo calls her 'silly girl' in his head and thinks she thinks to much (kind of like 'you don't need to think or make decisions or earn money because i can do that for you'), dirty talk, dumbification, objectification(?), submissive reader, dominant gojo, petnames: princess, sweetheart, (good girl) (if i've missed anything please let me know because it's very possible with 14.7k words - mdni / 18+

everyone flocks to satoru gojo, girls and guys alike, they want his attention, if only for a second, and want to be noticed by him. he's the beating heart to every social situation, with an ability to draw every single eye in the room on him, feeding off the spotlight and admiration. whatever he wants he gets it, he has since he was a young child so why are you being so difficult?

there's not many who he considers his equal, if he had to pick out one it would be his best friend from childhood suguru geto, two families telling their children to talk to the other in hopes to form more connections. gojo remembers to this day being five years old dressed up in a suit that was too stuffy for any five year old to wear, taken to a party with his parents. everywhere he looked there were elites and politicians, anyone and everyone with power. he remembers the nudge his mother gave him towards suguru's direction, telling her son to make friends. others at the university are lesser than him, but they're entertaining for a short duration, before he gets bored of them and tosses them away for someone else, that is.

then there's the nobodies, the lowest of the low. uninteresting in every way possible with nothing to offer him, nothing to pique his interest and in terms of satoru gojo you're a typical nobody but even the nobodies look his way when they think people won't notice. even the really shy ones or the stubborn ones who always say how much they despise how everyone adores him will momentarily glimpse in his direction when they think no one's looking.

but you... you look right past him, and it pisses him off. do you think you're better than him? even people in long term relationships eyes drift to him, most would break up with their partner for just one night with him. this 'most' mainly means all, everyone wants a chance to be with the man whose sexual escapades are spoken about frequently in such a high regard.

it's not like you don't know about his existence, you do, but you want to keep yourself to yourself. even your closest friends talk about the famous satoru gojo but he gives you the shivers for some reason. you've never spoken to him and you don't intend to, even if it's everyone's dream, it's not yours, something's just not quite right about him. you live in completely different worlds, different universes, and you prefer to dream about things more realistic, maybe dragons and flying saucers on occasion but never satoru gojo. not only is associating with him unrealistic but just the thought of him makes you shudder. he's too cocky, too self-assured, too arrogant, too loud, too... attractive, it doesn't seem right that someone would look that good. it's like he's hypnotised everyone bar you.

first it's irritation when he notices your behaviour, it's clear when you're acting the complete opposite to everyone, then it's anger when he sees you pay attention to someone that isn't him. something must be wrong with you if you're laughing at a joke that he didn't make, a joke told by another nobody, not just a nobody but someone a year younger. his actions are fuelled by his anger and his annoyance towards you. he makes sure every friend and acquaintance you have stops talking to you, it's easy really. all those so called 'friends' leave you alone after 'overhearing' hushed voices talk about how gojo's more likely to talk to someone when they're not friends with someone who's like you. it was easy to orchestrate it, all he needed was two girls who constantly fawn over him, perfect for doing his bidding.

"gojo never talks to yumehara, even though she tries so hard."

"yeah, it's because she's friends with moriyama. associating with someone like her is a no-go."

"moriyama?"

"yeah, you know that girl in class a, the one who thinks she's better than everyone and doesn't care about gojo."

you now sit by yourself and walk the corridors alone- easy. if he was more sympathetic towards you he'd almost feel bad that all of your friends would stop talking to you so readily.

next was your grades. the gojo family funds the university meaning that he had much more power than the average person, even more than people who also come from wealthy families. professors know it's in their best interest not to get on the bad side of the heir of the gojo family, not just for the university's sake but for themselves as well. one wrong move and they'll be fired, blacklisted throughout town unable to get a job. one wrong move and the university could lose all their funding. he wields more power than the headmaster.

you already get average grades, typically b's and occasionally c's but if he plays his cards right he knows he can lower those c's another extra grade down to an f and he knows just who to start with. professor iura: a man in his mid-thirties who's respected by all and he knows you like him. he's been told you try extra hard in his class, taking double the amount of notes in his lectures than you ordinarily do. he knows getting an f in his class first would be more hurtful than over all the other classes.

"professor iura don't you think the girl who wrote the paper on-" he stops mid sentence, what did you write about again?- "something so boring it hasn't even sunk in. i remember everyone else's but not hers." he only remembers his own and there was never any reason to see what a nobody like you wrote about.

the professor's eyebrows furrow before quickly schooling his expression back to impassive. satoru has used his influence before but iura's never heard about him using it as payback for whichever poor soul's caught his ire. "who is it?" iura thought you deserved an a this time, it's disappointing that he'll have to give you an f.

all these things start stacking up and you feel like the universe is against you, you don't understand your sudden drop in grades or why your friends won't talk to you. you do your best to put on a brave face but you feel alone, you have no one to turn to, you don't understand why everyone gives you the cold shoulder and why they pretend you don't exist, your facial expression dropping when someone ignores you for the umpteenth time. you don't understand how your water always seems to spill in your bag all over your things even though you swear you've put on the lid securely, screwing the lid on the bottle so tightly your hands suffer the consequence, almost raw, from how tight you've tried to make it. you can't afford to buy another textbook and you don't have enough time to rewrite your essay.

you don't understand how things go missing every time you look away. you glance to the window when you see a falling leaf, burnt orange and crimson red litter the floor outside. autumn is so beautiful, a season of harvest and abundance but it's a reminder to you that nothing lasts forever, leaves fall and people leave. people talk about how autumn is maturing but omits the melancholy idea that it's just growing old, that burnt oranges and crimson reds are just rotting on the ground. your whole world is rotting with every second, the universe has it out for you and by the time you look back into the room your pen is missing.

gojo takes pleasure from seeing your face at these times, that puzzled look and biting your lip in frustration as you've lost another pen or that pout when your friend ignores you, he thinks it looks pretty on you. not that he'd ever admit that of course.

his pleasure twists though, into a new emotion- a darker emotion. you got another f and you look... sad... distraught. satoru enjoys seeing your pout when something goes wrong for you, he thinks it's pretty but he's watching you like a hawk right now, he can't take his eyes off you, he can tell you're trying desperately to hold it all together but you can't stop your eyes from welling up, it's impossible to stop your waterline brimming with tears, overflowing like a broken tap, hot tears running down your face, you attempt to quickly wipe your tears away with the back of your sleeve in hopes that nobody has seen but it's too late for that. he thought he would take pleasure in seeing you cry but instead it's pure rage. even though he's the one that's convinced all of your professors to give you f's, all he feels is fury for them making you cry. he doesn't want you to cry, he wants to keep you safe, wants to make you all his.

in the following weeks professors leave the university without announcing it to students. leaving studies and classes in a limbo for awhile. not just the professor who made you cry is gone but also iura and several others.

with that limbo period came more group projects to fill in the space of the lack of lectures. a 'little' push from satoru to higher ups and you were paired up together, leaving you no choice to spend time together and have your first conversation with each other. at this point he needed to be near you. you sit across from each other after class and you introduce yourself to each other, even though you both know who the other is, you didn't expect him to know you and he acts like he doesn't. "oh i know you, i really liked your last paper. you got an f, right? i can't believe that, it was the best one." after all your friends avoiding you and all those f's getting validation makes you shyly smile, your cheeks feel warm and you're starting to understand why people like him.

things start to change after that. your f's go back to normal and people are kinder, with everything going back to normal satoru makes sure you're still alone though, makes sure your friends continue not to talk to you. he's the only one that's allowed to do that. your friends still don't spend time with you, instead gojo does and honestly you don't mind that change, you appreciate that change, you don't know what happened with your friends but you like how gojo doesn't dismiss your emotions and opinions like they used to do.

you previously had that inkling that something was wrong with him but his easygoing smiles and playful words make you enjoy your time with him and his once overconfidence that you always used to observe which once bothered you now makes your heartbeat go crazy in your chest, like marching drums hammering away against your ribcage.

satoru notices this change in you and he takes advantage of it. this change doesn't make him lose interest in you, maybe if you were someone else it would but not with you, if anything it makes him more interested because he learns more and more without you, some with your consent and knowledge others without it. he thinks you look so cute when you smile and he loves hearing you laugh. he never really liked music but he's listened to all those music and songs you share to the world like the ones you love that you play in cars and talk to people about them, plus the more secret ones hidden in your likes and private playlists. he loves the things you do that you don't realise you're doing, the soft sighs you make when you put on a warm coat when it's cold or the hums when you drink a hot drink. how you bite your pen when you're deep in thought and linger by the door before leaving the house and locking up, mentally checking you have everything you need with you. the little moans you make when you eat something that you love, at those times satoru has to restrain himself from kissing you. he loves it all. he loves you.

you see each other whenever possible and if you can't you'll be texting, he'll send you emoji's at the end of messages that you don't understand the context to and will send you selfies and photos of cats he's seen while around town.

after the first few times at the library you tend to see each other at café because they're more relaxed and you can talk as loud as you want to. he starts paying for your lunch whenever you're together, you always used to insist to pay yourself but after the first few times you relented, he could buy you breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday for the rest of your life yet it still wouldn't make a dent in his wallet. not only does he buy you lunch now but it's much more extravagant then you could afford for yourself.

you're walking together past a store front window and gojo sees something that catches his eye, stopping where he is and pulling on your sleeve to stop you too. "look at this!"

your eyes scan the window not knowing what he's talking about, all of them are designer clothes but none of them are men's. "what are we looking at gojo?"

he grins and points to a blouse, "that would look so good on you, you'd look so cute!" 'doubtful' you think. you scoff, that is a cute blouse but no way. "hey, what was that for? it's true." he insists.

"i don't even need to go in there to see that it's way out of my price range, plus designer brands like that never have my size anyway."

"you didn't say you didn't like it."

"me liking or not liking it isn't the point."

you carry on the rest of your day like it didn't happen and you forget about the whole thing. gojo doesn't.

all of gojo's fans start to get jealous of you, it's been over three months, the limbo period is over and new people have been hired, group projects are finished but you still spend all your days together. his previous relationships have been no more than eye candy only lasting a couple weeks yet you don't even seem to be dating so why is he always smiling when you talk and is walking you everywhere. they can't comprehend it, you're a nobody.

satoru loses it one day. you've gone to hand in your library book, it's overdue and you had forgotten about it, you needed it for when you and gojo were working together but you forgot all about it. gojo's waiting outside for you, you know the librarian likes you more so you've told him it's better if you go on your own, he knows that isn't true but as long as the librarian is kind to you he won't intervene. 'if the librarian knows what's good for her she'll let it go and not upset you.'

someone gojo vaguely recognises as a cheerleader who suguru slept with a few times spots him and goes over to him, leaning against him and pushing her breasts up against him. it disgusts him. "what are you doing here gojo? don't tell me that friend of yours is making you wait for her." she says in a sickly sweet voice and his eye twitches. he doesn't reply, she should get the idea and leave. "if i were her i'd never do that. why don't you come hang out with me? me and my friends are having a party later we'd love it if you'd come. normally i wouldn't come up to you so boldly but i think i'd be able to show you a good time, not like that girl you're always spending time with, you're so out of her league." she runs her hand along his arm but he grabs it tightly making her wince.

"don't ever fucking talk about her again," gojo responds coldly. he squeezes tighter and she yelps. he lets go of arm and pushes her away, almost in revulsion that he touched her. she stumbles and leans against the wall, looking shocked. at that time you push open the door with a relieved look on your face. satoru ignores the girl, acting like she doesn't exist, he smiles brightly at you. "everything okay?"

"yeah, she was surprisingly very understanding," you return his smile and shut the door behind you. when you shut the door you see the girl leaning against the wall staring at gojo and you wonder why. you've seen lots of gojo's fans but none of them have looked at him like that. you turn your attention back to gojo, not really wanting to engage with the girl if you can help it, you've never seen her before but you can tell that she's someone who would make your life hell if you knew each other as teenagers. "is everything okay?" you ask him, vaguely gesturing to her.

he grins and strolls towards you lifting up his sunglasses and lifting up your chin to look at him, forcing you to make eye contact and in doing so you get flustered and frazzled. gojo would sometimes put his arm over your shoulder when your walking together or grab hold of you quickly from behind unexpectedly, making you jump but this is the first time it's ever been so intimate. it's also rare for you to see gojo without his sunglasses on. "everything's fine." he grins and pats your head jokingly making you glare and pout. he snickers as he sees your reaction and lets go of your chin, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

"alright, if you say so, but for lunch i'm getting extra for that, i'm not some pet." you grumble and walk off together. satoru's mind flashes with images with you on your knees, 'i think she'd make a good pet. maybe i should buy her a collar.' he snickers again and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "what's so funny?"

"nothing," he smirks. as you walk away he turns back around to look at the girl still standing there paralysed and glares hard at the girl. normally people would be swooning when they see his bright blue eyes like the clearest spring days but not right now, they'd all be wrong, his eyes aren't clear like any warm day they're frozen over and icy, with flecks of white and all that girl feels is despair and dread. he looks at her so cruelly, it makes her unable to move- frozen in place.

you haven't seen gojo for the last few days, it's the longest you've gone without seeing him since you became friends. even if you've both been busy previously gojo makes sure to have seen you, even if it's only for a minute, but you've both been too busy. gojo has had basketball practise in the day and in the night his family demands his attendance whilst discussing family affairs and you on the other hand have been busy studying, wanting to make sure you don't get any f's again. you don't realise you won't though, everything could be incoherent with each other word being spelled terribly and you'd never get an f again, gojo's made sure of that. he won't let anyone make you cry again.

you rhythmically tap your fingers, fidgeting on the table where your laptop and textbooks are, 'i want to see him.' satoru's scored another goal, this time a three point line goal, normally he goes for slam dunks but as long as he's the one scoring it doesn't really bother him. he's got a big game coming up and you're going to be there, you're going for him, you've never been to any of the games before, not having any real interest in the sport but now your friend is the star player so you're not going to miss any games. he'll score every single point his team makes so your eyes have no option but to focus on him and after the match you'll compliment him. the coach asks him something but it's all white noise to him, 'i miss her.'

you get a text on the fourth day of not seeing him and when you read the message you smile so wide your face becomes sore. 'the last few days have been so long without you! i know we normally go out for lunch but do you want to go for dinner?'

you don't hesitate responding, 'i'd love too!'

'i'll pick you up an hour before our reservations, i've brought you something.'

'reservations? did you plan tonight? and what's this about buying me something? you already pay for my lunch.'

'i've pulled some strings xoxo see you tonight.' you scowl when you read that he's blatantly ignored your comment about buying you something and if he's went out his way to pull some strings for this meal it must be more than a fast food drive-thru or the equivalent. you didn't really expect him to take you somewhere where you can eat in your car or it's acceptable to wear a three day old top and a hoodie that is a little too small but for him to go to the effort of pulling strings this must be a sophisticated place.

half an hour later you hear your phone again, multiple messages being sent one after another, five buzzes. 'shit.' 'I FORGOT' 'i forgot to send a time!' 'i'll see you at 6.' 'pretend this never happened.' you cover your face with your phone and giggle.

by six you're ready, it's taken you longer to get ready then you'd like to admit but you wanted to look pretty, it would be embarrassing to underdress. compared to gojo anything you or any 'normal' person would wear looks cheap in comparison to all his designer clothes but you spent hours making sure it would be suitable.

it's ten past six when you hear a knock on the door. opening it you see gojo in all his glory, his attractiveness on full display and his wealthiness showing, wearing an all black giorgio armani suit with a white shirt underneath, his sunglasses look different than normal, fancier, you think you can make out a ray-ban logo. he's wearing a rolex watch which is more than double your monthly rent. his hair looks shorter than the last time you saw him, he must of had a haircut in the last few days. it's obvious the way your eyes linger on him, checking him out and gojo grins as you unknowingly fuel his pride and ego.

"awe, you look so cute princess," gojo says playfully, smirking. princess- the first time he had called you that you malfunctioned, your eyes had widened and you forgot to breath. no one else has ever called you a term of endearment before and you didn't expect your friend, satoru gojo, to be saying it. you didn't ask why he called you it, why would you? it made your fingertips tingle and the inside of your chest to warm up. "can i come in?" you nod your head and move to the side to give him enough room to come in and close the door after him. "you really do look beautiful," he says gently, you don't think you've ever heard him speak so tenderly before.

"you look good too gojo, you always do but- but tonight as well," you tell him, bashfully smiling. he grins and his eyes gleam with glee at the genuine compliment. he loves when you compliment him, it feels different than the vapid ones others offer him, even if you compliment him with only a few words it means a greater deal.

behind his back he's carrying a sleek black box with a scarlet red chiffon ribbon wrapped around it in a bow containing his gift to you, your eyes narrow when he hands it too you, although your voice is soft and quiet when you say, "it's not my birthday gojo, why are you buying me things? you don't have to do that," your voice gets quieter with each word spoken.

gojo takes your hand in his and places the box in your hand. "i can buy you things because i can. i have enough money and i want to spend it on you," he tells you firmly and your stomach flutters with butterflies but you don't know why, his hand is awfully soft maybe that's why your heart is racing or maybe it's because he spoke to you firmly like there's no room for arguments. gojo cups your cheek with his unoccupied hand and strokes it, your whole body melts at the action, "just open it 'kay?"

you nod your head and hum, relenting- just like you did when he began paying for your lunch. you delicately unwrap the bow, not wanting to ruin the box, and open it, you didn't know what to expect, you could of been given a hundred guesses and a hundred days to guess what he brought you and you still would have no clue. you pause as you open up the lid, your heart skips a beat and it's almost as if the air was stolen from your lungs like deflated balloons as you breathlessly say, "satoru! what's this?" inside the box is the blouse you were looking at all those weeks ago, the one you said was too expensive, the one you said would never fit.

'satoru' it's the first time you've ever called him by his given name and it sounds so angelic coming from your lips that he's forgotten to breathe, everything pausing and not moving. "do you like it?" he finally asks.

you nod your head in an almost daze, you're in awe that he'd really give you something so beautiful, that he would go out of his way to buy it. "i- i don't deserve this gojo."

he steps closer to you, "uh uh, what's with calling me gojo again?"

your eyes widen as you realise that only a second ago you called him by his given name, "oh! i'm so sorry! i was just in shock, i didn't mean to call you that gojo," you ramble.

he smoothed out the wrinkles of his forehead rubbing it with his fingers, which is currently caused because he finds your lack of awareness disconcerting. "that isn't what i meant princess, i want you to call me satoru. i want to give this to you."

"oh... okay," you're quiet and you've pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. it won't be hard to start calling him satoru, you already call him satoru in your head. after a long pause of you trying to put your thoughts all together you start speaking again, "are you sure about this satoru? this is bound to be expensive, right? it's- it's ralph lauren isn't it? isn't this too expensive too be spending on me." gojo has to hide a smirk at that, 'has she forgotten how rich i am?' "and, and i don't want you to think that i want to spend time with you because you have money or anything!" 'ah she's adorable, i could just cancel our reservations and have her on her knees the whole night to say thank you for the blouse... i couldn't do that though, not right now... if i don't see her in that blouse in the next five minutes i'll go insane.'

"of course i'm sure about this princess, i know you'd never spend time with me for clothes from ralph lauren." he resists the urge to pull you in by your waist and kiss you, he doesn't want to overwhelm you, not at this moment.

you take the blouse out of the gift box and hold it out in front of you, there's a twinkle in your doe eyes as you look at it in wonder, knowing that this is yours, whispering, "pretty," it's barely audible. "wait, i didn't think this store went up to my size? did you go to a different store? and... how do you know my size." you ask him confused.

"i have my ways," he answers and winks at you, you scoff at the wink and narrow your eyes.

"seriously satoru," you press him. 'ah she could ask me anything and i'll tell her if she keeps calling me satoru.' "actually i know you know my size from when you've seen my coats and jumpers lying around but-" 'oh yeah... that's totally how i know...' "- how did you get it in my size?"

"annoyingly they don't actually make that particular blouse in your size... how ridiculous is that, sadly i don't have enough money and connections to make them ruined and bankrupt." he says nonchalantly, casually waving his arm around. you bark out a laugh thinking that he was joking. he wasn't. if even one article of clothing isn't made in your size it should only be fair for the brand to lose all their money and reputation, no matter what the brand is.

"hold up how do i have this if it doesn't come in my size?" you cock your head to the side quizzically and for the second time gojo thinks about buying you a collar, maybe with a matching lead...

he grins and flicks his eyes back and forth between your face and the blouse you're holding up. "obviously i got it custom made,"

"that's- that's obvious?!" you splutter and he laughs.

"obviously." he reiterates, enjoying your reaction- dumbstruck and lips parted in near disbelief.

"it'll take us thirty minutes to get to the restaurant princess and our reservations in about forty minutes." he lets you know and you snap out of your stupor.

"i'll just get my bag."

"hang on!" satoru rushes out before you can leave to get your bag. "you look beautiful right now princess but don't you want to see how that blouse looks on you?" you shift your weight from side to side, heat rising to your cheeks. 'do i really have time to get changed? i spent so long choosing this outfit too.' before you can say something gojo stops you, not wanting to give you an opportunity to say no or think to hard about it. he wants you to do it, you don't have to have an opinion on the matter, leave that him. sometimes you can't be trusted when it comes to these things. "come on princess, i'm the one who brought you it. just wear it, please. i want to make sure it fits properly."

you yield, "okay let me go get changed."

satoru smirks, 'good girl.'

as you come back out of the bedroom adrenaline bursts through his veins. you twirl around, pausing when you circle back round to gojo and picking up the hem of your skirt playfully with one hand and doing a half curtsy, it's such a happy coincidence that the blouse pairs so well with the skirt you're already wearing, "how do i look?" 'beautiful, stunning, breathtaking, ethereal.'

"perfect," he replies dreamily and you giggle, thinking he isn't being serious and is exaggerating.

"i'm serious satoru," you tell him, it was meant to sound firm and like you won't back down until you get an answer but it just turned out sounding a little whiny.

gojo smirks and leisurely saunters to you, stopping when coming up close in front of you, "you look truly beautiful sweetheart." 'sweetheart' he's never called you that before. you don't know if your heart can keep taking it all. satoru's your friend, your close friend, but at times like this it's hard to remember that.

you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling- admittedly unsuccessfully. the corners of your mouth still quirk up and your round cheeks become more predominate. you fight the desire to cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, instead opting to twiddle your fingers. "sh-should we get going?"

satoru grins at you, "sure thing."

the whole drive you're both stealing looks at each other when you can get away with it while making small talk and satoru's not letting you know where you're going saying that it's a surprise. whenever there's a red light gojo takes his time to admire you and as you step outside into the night you're astonished at the restaurant in front of you. satoru's handing his car keys to a valet to park his car but you're distracted from that, finally knowing where you're eating tonight. you know this place, well you know of this place. never in a million years would you have thought you'd be dining here, it's so lavish that the cutlery is more expensive than buying a house that's already furnished. "are you okay princess?" you snap out of your daze and nod your head. "alright then, let's go inside."

you follow closely behind gojo, nervous as you enter, you don't think you've ever felt more out of place. satoru doesn't even give his name, the man at the desk recognises him straight away, "ah mr. gojo if you'd follow me." the man leads you upstairs and you hear him asking satoru questions but all that's going through your mind is 'please don't trip, please don't trip.' you're quite accident prone and falling down these stairs would be too much to handle. he takes you all the way to the fourth floor and near the window where you can see the city lights shining below. "here you are."

when the man leaves satoru pulls out a chair for you and you're startled by the gesture. you take your seat and he takes his. "you're more gentlemanly then i expected you to be satoru, pulling out my chair for me," you pause for a second mulling your thoughts over before adding, "or is that normal etiquette?"

"i'm very chivalrous, i'll have you know," he replies pouting and you raise an eyebrow at how fake his answer sounded. he throws his hands up with a smirk, "well, i'm not always chivalrous but if a pretty lady is in front of me than i can become very courteous." you chuckle, trying not to hone in the pretty part for your own sanity.

you glance at the table and worry because satoru might know proper etiquette but you don't. you know the general rules and ideas but why are there two knives and forks next to your plate and a spoon as well? why are there two glasses, a wine one and a normal one? why does the napkin look fancy? does that mean it's just for decoration, what if you need it? you're worried that you'll leave smudges in places where there shouldn't be and what if the table cloth rips? maybe this was a mistake...

"hey," satoru says softly catching your attention, when you look back up at him you see his smirk has turned into a frown and you don't think you've seen that expression on his face before, it doesn't fit right. he's taken off his sunglasses and placed them down, hanging them out of his suit pocket. his striking baby blue eyes glinting when the chandelier droplets move in the light. his snowy white hair looking soft and subdued under the glow of the light and the wavering flame of the candle. "sweetheart, whatever you're thinking right now isn't true."

"how did y-"

he cuts you off before you can finish asking. "because i know you and i know that look on your face, that overthinking look, i can see all those unnecessary cogs turning in your brain."

"i just..." you look away from him, not wanting to look into his eyes any longer knowing you'll crumble but gojo's not allowing that. with how long his arms are it's not difficult reaching over the table to you, placing his fingers below your chin and tilting your head around to look at him.

"just what? sweetheart." satoru presses you.

bunching up your skirt into tight fists you take a shaky breath and try again, "i'm worried i don't belong here. this is a really lovely place satoru and i just... what if i embarrass you? i'm not like you, i don't know when to do certain things or say specific things, i don't know why the table is placed like it is or any of it," after the words stop spewing out your mouth you take another breath, this time not shaky and deep. you look relieved to get it out.

'silly girl.' "do you really think i'd get embarrassed because of you sweetheart? nothing you could do would make me embarrassed. i'm lucky that you're with me right now. i don't care if you don't know all the rules and you shouldn't either, all that matters is that we're here together and we get to finally see each other after some hectic few days," gojo tells you earnestly, his body close to the edge of the table, leaning forward further near you, his voice low and intimate, like what he's saying is a complete secret for your ears only. the days were hectic and finally you're getting to see each other. those tedious meetings with his family and hours of basketball that seemed to stretch on and on but finally- you're together again.

your shoulders sag, you weren't even aware that your plush figure had tensed up in the first place. when satoru saw how you relaxed your posture he picks up one of the menus, "everything okay now?" he asks you, his eyes soft as they gaze at you.

"yeah, i think so." you lick your lips, wetting them after getting dry, the intense spike of emotions throwing your body threw a little bit of a loop, dry lips, moist eyes, with shaky fingers.

gojo grins and leans back on his chair, seeming more casual than a minute ago and hands you a menu. "what are you thinking about getting? i might go for the lobster."

you're browsing the menu but when you hear him you put it down momentarily to reply, "oh please, like you care about the lobster, you just want dessert," you say grinning wide.

gojo gasps and places his hands on his chest in mock offence. "dessert? i think you mean desserts." you laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement. "i want you to enjoy this meal just as much as i'm planning to, that's why i intend to get the lobster, i don't want you to feel like you have to rush while eating just because i want dessert and i don't want you to even think about a silly thing like money." 'so he's ordering one of the biggest and expensive dishes? ...that does sound like satoru actually.' although you would be none the wiser about the prices of these meals, it's one of those high-end restaurants that doesn't have the prices on the menu, satoru must have been here often enough to know how much the lobster costs compared to other dishes.

"i don't know what to do about drinks, i hear they've got a fine collection of wines, maybe we should order a couple bottles? do you like wine?" he already knows the answer to that but you don't know that. "they've also got a wide selection of spirits and non-alcoholic drinks too, i believe."

you both order what you want, making idle conversation while waiting.

by the time your food arrives satoru has tried to convince you that you should've ordered a bigger meal, you're content with your choice in the end though and it's not the most surprising that when your food does arrive there's also a side dish for you to which you didn't order.

"i didn't order this satoru," you raise an eyebrow.

gojo smirks, "i know you didn't, but i did. i didn't want you to be hungry and we haven't had lunch together in days have you been eating properly?"

"are you suggesting that because i'm eating food in my price bracket instead of yours that it's not good enough? the food you pay for is definitely better but poor people food taste good too."

he chuckles and smiles at you fondly before replying, "that's not what i'm saying and you know i'm not. I am however asking have you been eating three meals a day?" you wince. "i thought not."

"i've been busy with studies, i didn't have time to eat three meals a day every single day," you try to justify.

"that's exactly what i mean. i won't take any excuses though, you shouldn't have skipped any meals." satoru lightly scowls you but don't take it too seriously, you should have though. 'silly girl, she really can't look after herself properly. it's a good thing i'm here to keep an eye on her. she just can't be trusted on her own.'

you pout at his reasoning, it's not often that gojo reprimands you or anyone you've seen for that matter. knowing that you don't have a leg to stand on you keep quiet.

when you eat the first bite of your food you hum blissfully, so close to being a moan and it's music to satoru's ears, 'god she's adorable.' he doesn't even realise that he isn't eating until you noticed that he's unmoving. "satoru are you okay? you're not eating."

"i'm fine sweetheart just thinking about something," he responds with a smile.

"okay- if you're sure but make sure you eat soon or it'll get cold."

"yes ma'am," satoru gives you a cheeky smile and picks up his fork.

your face heats up in embarrassment and you lose any composure that you previously had. you avert you eyes and focus on the tablecloth, suddenly finding it very interesting, focusing on the material. you never knew being called something would make you feel so strange, it was the complete opposite to gojo calling you princess or sweetheart.

even though satoru picked up his fork and began eating he didn't take his eyes off you at the corner of his eye, he wanted to see your reaction to that name. he wanted to test how docile you are, his theory that you are submissive and it seems he was right, although even if he wasn't and his theory was proven wrong he'd just mold you into what he wants. 'of course she's so perfect that i don't need to change her, she's such a good girl.'

quickly ma'am leaves your head with the more delicious food you have but you can't help some negative thoughts enter your mind. everything starts to feel too good to be true, the twinkling lights and the flickering of the candle on the table, the scenery and the ambience, the delectable food and the amazing beverages, the dream company with someone who you care so very much about, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else and... it just all feels too good to be true.

'how many girls does gojo come here with? they knew who he was without giving his name. i know i'm not his girlfriend. it's not like i'm jealous it's just- i want this so bad to be special. am i one in a long line?' you have to ask, you have to know. if you're not special you need to know.

"satoru-" you start by getting his attention.

he looks up at you and sees the pensive look on your face, he puts his cutlery down and ceases eating, directing all his attention to you, "yes princess?"

"can i ask you something?" you ask, hesitant and more meekly now you have his attention.

"of course you can princess," he smiles and waits for you to ask whatever it is. he truly doesn't know what it could be right now.

"am i special? i mean- wait- not special. i mean do you take lots of girls here? they seemed to know your name already so do you? i know we're friends so it wouldn't be the same as you taking other girls here but do you take lots of girls here?"

he doesn't even try to stop the smirk that creeps onto his face, you're jealous and what's even better do you even know that you're jealous. satoru can barely contain his excitement.

not once have you brought up other girls, not once. you've never asked if it's true that he doesn't date anyone for longer than a month or that he's gone through half the school. you've never asked about the crude gossip about how big his dick is and how he's the best anyone has ever had even though he knows you've definitely heard those rumours. but right now? right now your words hint of jealously and insecurity.

satoru tells the truth as he replies simply "i haven't brought any girls here." gojo dangles the small piece of information in front of you, it isn't a question of if you'll take it and ask further questions he knows you will but he wants to hear you ask for more, it thrills him.

"you-you dont?" you ask for more explanation.

he grins, "nope," he pops the 'p'. "i go here with my family and on occasion suguru but only sometimes with suguru because it can be kind of intimate with two people," he explains and you giggle at the thought of the two of them sitting across from each other here. he carries on his explanation, "i would never go here with other girls, of course you're special," he tells you honestly and your lips part, hanging onto every word spoken.

'i'm special.' you press your lips together but the corners of your mouth still manage to lift up into a small smile. your brain then fully catches up with everything he said and your heart beats erratically, just now satoru said a dinner here between two people is intimate, he didn't word it in that exact way but if a dinner for two with suguru is intimate, a dinner for two with you might be considered intimate too. overall you're pleased with the answer you were given, gojo thinks your special and he doesn't take other girls here.

you eat the rest of your dinner without incident, enjoying every single mouthful and letting gojo know that it's tasty, thanking him. when you order dessert it's no surprise that satoru goes a bit overboard nearly buying the whole dessert menu, not that you would ever complain about a thing like that, the more time you've spent with gojo the more of a sweet tooth you've become yourself.

satoru doesn't attempt to hide the bill, he enjoys the look on your face when you see the amount in the corner of your eye. for him the money is trivial sum but to you it's shockingly high. he gets a power trip when he sees your eyes widen at the money.

"do you want to come back to mine?" satoru asks you while you leave the restaurant and you agree not thinking anything of it. he's been to yours before but you've never been to his. you don't think there's anything behind his question, you don't even consider he's suggesting something and gojo's well aware that you don't realise.

you don't speak much on your way back, you're leaning against the window and watching the city lights, it's starting to drizzle and you feel at ease in your current company, your eyes fluttering, slightly drowsily, as you hear the rain. gojo taps his fingers on the steering wheel and smiles thinking about how adorable you look right now.

the journey back to satoru's could've taken ten minutes to an hour for all you know as your mind wanders and your eyelids get heavy. when you arrive and he parks up and you get out of the car, you shiver a bit as the cold air hits you, giving you a shock and getting rid of any lingering tiredness and satoru walks around the car to be next to you. he pouts as he bends down to look at you, his sunglasses still in his jacket pocket, "pretty ladies aren't just supposed to have their chair pulled out for them, they're meant to have doors open for them too."

you giggle and bump against him, "flattery will get you nowhere mister." it does. luckily you'll be able to blame your flushed face due to the bitterly cold if gojo questions you on it.

"let's get inside sweetheart, it's cold." 'sweetheart' something else you can luckily blame on the weather. you're not expecting satoru to randomly touch your face though so you think you're going to be okay.

you follow him inside and the size of his place is a large as you thought it would be, you're learning to expect everything he owns is extravagant. the interior however is something you take note of, you've only entered one room but it seems barren. the walls are drab, painted slate grey and off white with only the bare necessaries of furniture and nothing more. devoid of any human presence. you're not even sure if he's lived here long and when he looks at you he can see those unnecessary cogs turning in your head again. "is something on your mind princess?"

"um-" you don't really know if you should bring it up but your curiosity gets the better of you. "have you lived here long?"

"a couple of years," satoru leans against the wall and smirks.

"i just- there's not a lot of stuff in here, it looks like you still have unpacking to do."

he pushes himself off the wall and goes over to you, "do you think i should get more stuff? like cushions for the the sofa and posters on the wall?" you feel gojo's breath against your skin as he leans down to talk in your ear quietly, it's so intimate, your mind draws a blank finding it hard to think with him so close to you. satoru is playful and he's teasing and you've heard rumours that he's a flirt but he's never been this close to you before, you've never been able to smell his cologne and been this close to feel his warm breath against your neck. "maybe we should go shopping together and you could help me pick out some stuff?" you're holding your breath, not being able to breathe anymore. "or maybe it would be better if you just stayed here and brought your stuff along? you do always complain about your rent being high."

you take a sharp intake of air and move a step away from him so you can look back at him in the eye. mentally shaking your head to forgot about his remark. 'did gojo just say about me being his roommate? i'd get to see him everyday... wait... i'd have to hear him all the time when he brings home girls and does he even clean after himself properly?'

"did you have too much to drink tonight satoru? you know you shouldn't drink and drive," you reply with light tone, reminding yourself not to think too hard about the situation, almost being successful in your mission.

satoru just watches you and smirks as he sees you try to ignore his comment. "anyway i don't think you need a roommate." 'roommate? yeah i don't need one of those...'

"and for all i know you might steal my food from the fridge and not wash up the dishes. plus i always forget my towel when i shower." you say the last sentence flippantly, but satoru's mind fills with thoughts of you... 'walking out of the shower into the living room with a small towel on, barely covering your body, body damp with water dripping down your neck, onto your shoulders down to the valley of your breasts...' he's getting hard just imagining it.

"are you okay satoru? you're a bit red." you question and the topic of conversation changes.

satoru moves back away from you, "i'm okay princess, probably thirsty. do you want a drink?" he's glad of this change, he'd like to tease you more but there'd be a real chance you'd see his erection, he could probably tease you about it if you'd notice it but he doesn't think you're ready yet. he wants to make sure you're relaxed and comfortable. you've got a long night ahead of you.

"sure."

following him into the kitchen you take a seat on one of the kitchen counter stools. "what would you like to drink?"

not wanting to ask for something he might not have or cause a fuss you respond with, "whatever you're having is good with me."

'she's so predictable.' he pours both of you your favourite drink, he knows all your preferences, of course he's stocked up on everything you like. he hands it to you and you smile wide, "this is like my all time favourite drink, i didn't know you liked it too."

in situations like this he switches his answers up from time to time not wanting you to get suspicious. "do you like these too? the amount i get through weekly is crazy." he makes sure to separate things into two categories, things you've told him and things you haven't but he knows anyway. he wouldn't want to mention in conversation about how he remembers that you like these drinks when you've never told so.

satoru likes when he tells you things that subtly suggest, 'look how much we have in common. we like all the same music and drinks!'

he prefers when he tells you he remembers something you told him, you quietly replying to him once about how much it means to you because "no one has ever cared about me to remember something so mundane about me." he swears that he'll remember everything about you, he swore he'd never forget a single thing.

gojo takes his place next to you, sitting on the stool and purposely brushing his hand against your rib, under your breast, and he gets pleasure from seeing you straighten up your back.

you both enjoy your drinks and kick your legs in the air. "i feel bad because you've been driving me around all night. when i go i'll get an uber or cab or something."

gojo frowns, "are you going now?"

"n-no! unless you want me to?" you don't want to overstay your welcome and you have a feeling that if gojo wanted you to go he'd let you know and you want to look around the other rooms if you have a chance, perhaps not his bedroom for privacy reasons but you want to see if his other rooms have plain decoration and if the bathroom has any noteworthy products in, you have always wanted to know how his skin looks so good all the time.

"i'm definitely not telling you to leave princess... in fact why don't you stay the night? you can stay in the spare room. no pressure though. you don't have to but there might not be anywhere you can get a lift because of how late it is and how it's the other side of town adding that all onto it's now pouring down. i'd offer to take you back myself but i'm not a huge fan of driving in the dark, especially if the roads are slippy 'cause to the rain. it's your choice. i'm sure you'll get someone to take you eventually but it might be less effort to stay here and leave tomorrow?"

he knows you don't want to wait forever getting home, he knows you want to take him up on his offer but something is stopping you, he doesn't know what is it for a moment until he figures it. "it's absolutely no bother, i don't mind and i've got clothes that you can wear, i think i wore them to lounge about in on tuesday so i haven't had time to wash them yet but i don't think that's a huge problem. i wear them a lot but they're too big on me, you should fit in them."

that small comment might have upset you more if it came from someone else but you don't think gojo meant it maliciously, you think it came from a good place, however you couldn't help thinking about it, the words 'they're too big on me, you should fit in them' ring around your head, about how you should fit in them. you know that satoru didn't mean anything by that but you've never worn someone else's clothes before so it gives you a bit of anxiety and satoru can see that.

gojo speaks again in an attempt to stop you from other thinking. "if you did want to go i'll give you the money to get a cab but if not you can stay, it's no problem, in fact i would enjoy it." your eyes snap up to look at him and you see a soft smile adorning his face. "we could watch that new film you were telling me about and i don't mean to brag but my shower is amazing, nothing compares, even five star hotels." you crack a smile but your mind still lingers on the clothes. satru can see that still not fully convinced and there's something stopping you, "is this about the clothes?" you shift your eyes away nervously not wanting to admit how you clung to a few words. gojo stops himself from sighing in exasperation. "if you'd feel more comfortable keeping the blouse and skirt on you can, you do look good in them but you shouldn't overthink about wearing my clothes. i know i said they're not clean but i've only worn them once since they've been washed it's not like they're diseased." you giggle and satoru gets less exasperated after hearing you laugh.

"they'll fit you if that's what you're worried about and honestly even if they are a little tight you'd still look good in my shirt, it would just hang onto your hips a bit." your mouth parts, the previous throwaway remark being swiped away like smoke by his hand, instead being replaced by insurance that it will fit and if by the off chance it doesn't then it's not the end of the world. he hopes it doesn't fit.

it quells your mind and you agree to stay. "thank you satoru, i'd appreciate staying, over the hassle of getting home."

he grins at your answer, hands itching to take off your blouse. "do you want a shower now so we can watch that film?"

"sounds good." you follow him into the bathroom and it looks like the living room, crystal clean, newly moved into, the only difference is his electric toothbrush on the side and moisturiser. gojo doesn't leave when he shows you into the room, he doesn't leave when he makes a quick explanation about how the shower works, in fact he didn't tell you at all. instead of telling you he turns the shower on, adjusting the handle to change the temperature to the one you prefer and pressing a button next to the handle, keeping his finger on it for a few seconds before removing it, changing the water pressure. "here you go princess," he grins and turns back to you. you think to yourself about how you could of figured out how to work the shower but you don't vocalise it, you've been in enough showers to know how they work but satoru's one is probably different if he did it himself.

"oh, the shower wash and shampoo is there, i don't know if you want to wash your hair but it's there if you need it. you'll have to use my one." he then leaves, before placing a towel on the sink for you to grab when you get out. he owns all the soaps and scents you use but you can't use them, he doesn't want to share. if he gave you them you'd be suspicious and there would be less for him to use when he misses your smell, groaning in the shower after he gets home from basketball his hands massaging your shampoo into his scalp, one hand in his hair the other fisting his cock. he'll buy you new perfumes and soaps for the holidays, he would never change any of your signature scents but you deserve more expensive products in his eyes.

a part of you still can't help but think about the clothes but when you step into the shower your eyes close and body relaxes, somehow it's the perfect way you like your showers. all of it melts away and as you pick up gojo's shower wash your body heats up inside. you're going to use the same soap as gojo uses and once you recognise how you reacted you shake your head to get away from all those thoughts. everybody at your university would likely have the same reaction as you but you're not just anyone, satoru is your dear friend and he deserves more respect than you just gave him. you don't spend long showering, wanting to not use his soap for a long period and you end up not washing your hair.

you dry yourself but panic as you can't find clothes anywhere, did satoru forget? maybe the plan was for you to put your clothes back on until he's gave you them. opening the door ajar you peek outside, you're planning on seeing if you can hear satoru, asking him about the clothes but before you can you see a shirt on the floor next to the door. picking it up, you close the door quickly and breathe deeply, glad that you noticed the shirt before calling out to gojo.

when you start to slip into the shirt you feel a repeat of the shower, it smells so much like him. you didn't realise when you agreed to this you'd have to be concerned about this but you are and it's making you feel guilty. like you're no better than those girls who throw themselves at him, only based on appearances alone. you put it on as quickly as you can and try to ignore the smell but the entire room is filled with it. it smells different to the soap, it smells more like him, 'his natural scent?' you ponder. it effects you differently than it would his fans though, they'd be filled with thoughts that are less than appropriate, like being pushed into his pillow while he's taking them from behind or not wasting time with getting completely nude but to you they're innocent, the smell is comforting like when he surprises you by suddenly grabbing you from behind or crowding your space as you worked on projects together. it's not the smell of satoru gojo, famous 'womaniser', 'manwhore', 'heartbreaker', with a reputation that would make a nymphomaniac blush, it's the smell of satoru gojo- your gojo. and annoyingly your gojo, your friend, smells really good.

satoru was right about the shirt. because of how tall he is it reached down to your thigh, you were slightly worried about accidentally flashing him but it was long enough not to worry too much about it. he was also right about how it clung to you. even though it clung to you it didn't make you feel uncomfortable, the fabric stretched a tad around your hips and chest but it didn't make you feel uneasy, you doubt satoru would even notice. he, of course, does. and takes great pleasure in it.

you fold up the towel and leave it in the laundry basket. exiting the room you hear satoru and go to him. he hears you near him entering the room and looks up from the sofa, "you okay?"

you smile sweetly and nod your head, "i'm okay, it was a good shower."

he returns your smile, "i'm glad."

satoru doesn't hide his staring as you move to the sofa to sit down next to him. you're so cute and you're so hot all he can do is stare and he's so thankful that you agreed to come to his and stay. he's never let anyone wear his clothes before, it's a boundary that he doesn't cross. his previous relationships weren't allowed to wear his clothes, if it was cold outside and someone didn't bring a coat he wouldn't give them his, he never cared about them that much to do things like that but when you walk in wearing his clothes his heart jumps with joy. he never thought about how much he'd love seeing you wear his shirt, it's not just a shirt it's a statement, you're his, he owns you. it barely covers your thighs and he knows if he gets you to move and bend down, even if only slightly, everything will be on display. his shirt is clinging to your curves and he's practically salivating as your hips look so grabbable.

you're none the wiser of this and when he turns on the film you previously spoken about he was paying more attention to you than the television, every so often shuffling a little bit closer to you. he doesn't wait long, it's been about twenty minutes through the film before he puts his arm around you, he slings his arm around your shoulder when you walk together sometimes so it's not the first time this has happened. this is regular behaviour in your eyes.

forgetting his arm is even around you you become invested in what you're watching, you were right to mention it to gojo, it's exceeded your expectations. you have no reaction to satoru taking his arm off your shoulder and instead placing it on your plush thigh. he has more of a reaction that you do, biting his lip to stop any noises that could come out because you would likely notice if he groaned. after a couple of minutes of his hands being still he starts moving, making small patterns on your skin and stroking you. his hand gets higher, reaching the hem of his shirt before stopping and leaving his hand there.

as the film ends you become more aware of where gojo's hand is resting but you choose not to say anything. you're flustered but you think he's put his hand there absentmindedly while watching the film so you keep quiet.

"did you enjoy the film princess?"

you smile brightly at him and respond, "i did! did you?"

satoru starts making patterns on your skin lightly again. tapping his finger on his chin with his other hand like he's thinking and making a noise, "hmmm i did enjoy it although i was distracted through most of it."

that catches your attention wondering what it was that he was focused on instead. "oh, what was it?"

he smirks, "it's hard to pay attention to anything other than how pretty you look right now."

satoru had called you a pretty lady earlier tonight but this feels more personal, your brain refusing to work and it's exhilarating for him to see it happen.

he cups your cheek in his hand so you're making direct eye contact with each other, he doesn't want to look away from him. "do you want this sweetheart?"

your heart is pounding in your chest like a hummingbirds wings and you worry that satoru can hear it, swallowing before replying, "w-what do you mean?"

he leans closer to you and feel like your body is buzzing, tiny zaps of electricity shooting through your veins at his proximity to you, "do you want me?"

"i-i," you're stuttering over your words and nothing makes sense. do you want him? want him to do what?

"sweetheart do you want me?" he reiterates putting more emphasis on the 'want' and slivering his hand up further along your thigh, inching under your, his, shirt. you wait with bated breath, wondering if he'll go further, wondering if he'll say more.

"satoru are you... are you coming onto me?" you're quiet when you ask, you're unsure, you worry that you're wrong and gojo can't help but laugh.

"obviously i'm coming onto you. i thought that was pretty clear."

"you are?" you're still quiet.

"yeah," he smirks at you however your eyes drift away from him feeling shy but gojo's not having that, he pats your cheek before saying, "look at me princess." you do what he says and make eye contact with him again, "there she is, "he smiles at you and kisses your nose making your whole body heat up, your lips part open in shock and he smirks.

"i'm going to ask again, do you want this?" lowering his voice he continues speaking, "because i want this."

'he wants this. he wants me... but do i want him? everyone wants him. do i want him? if we do this it might never be the same again, we might stop being friends... satoru is really attractive, he's hot, he can get anyone he wants but will this mess everything up... i don't know.'

he can see those unnecessary cogs again, how silly, how useless.

he doesn't wait for you to answer, he's given you time and instead of answering you're thinking, overthinking, not being a good girl at all. instead of waiting any longer he closes the space between you two and slots his mouth against yours, licking your lips in a silent request to open your mouth, you oblige his request without any more thought and just simply do what feels right, do what feels good, and kissing satoru feelings good.

his lips are soft, probably softer than yours but you can't tell with them against each other. imaging the kiss you'd think gojo would kiss someone slowly, languidly. you imagine he wouldn't put a lot of effort or passion in the kiss but it would still be the best kiss anyone has ever had. you never thought he'd be a passionate kisser. you know from rumours that his relationships don't last long, it seems to you that he's never been invested in any of them so what's the point in kissing someone like you can't get enough of them when he's going to move on to the next person in a week, so what's the point of kissing passionately but right now that theory is blown out the window. his movement is rushed, it's hungry, it's unexpected. you didn't think he'd be so greedy. his skilled tongue is against yours and he's completely dominating the kiss. satoru's not even stopping for air and he's not letting you either, he's been waiting for this for so long now and a stupid reason like needing to breathe isn't going to stop him.

satoru's leaving wet kisses down your jaw and pulse point anywhere that's visible he's kissing. leaving little nips in his wake and trying to find a good space for him to start leaving marks and hickeys so everyone will know you're his.

the hand that was holding onto your thigh squeezes gently and a shiver runs down his spine because you feel so soft. he pushes you down on the sofa and he's above you looking down, knocking your thighs open and kneeling between them. he's swears he's never seen a more beautiful sight. you get nervous when you look at him, the way he looks at you tenderly with those vibrant blue eyes, that unbeknownst to you hold so much love for you.

you're gasping at every new sensation gojo's giving you, never having felt like this before as his continues his path up your thigh moving the shirt up along with it and now he's finally touching your plush body he thinks he may be in heaven with a gorgeous goddess with him and the more he moves the shirt up the more he thinks so. both of his hands moving to your hips and pressing his fingers into your skin watching them spill over and it's making him dizzy. never has he felt anyone with your body before and it's driving him crazy. he wants more, he needs more.

satoru brushes his knuckles over your underwear making you whine and he smirks, "feel good princess?"

"uh huh," you reply nodding your head up and down rapidly, head fuzzy and wanting more, wanting him.

"yeah?" he asks smugly. " ' course you do." he taps your hips just above the line of your underwear, "lift up for me sweetheart." you move up so he can pull down your underwear and he pockets them in his jeans saving them for later. he doesn't waste anytime as he unzips his jeans and takes them off, pulling his shirt off after, the only reason of the shirt being off is that he wants you to see how hot he looks and to check him out, he knows he looks good and he wants you to know it too.

he presses two fingers into you and you moan. "i'm going to prepare you sweetheart." it wasn't a question but you nod your head anyway. his slender fingers are longer than yours, reaching placing you can't, he's leisurely taking his time, watching as you squirm, eyes starting to glaze over.

only after four minutes and he's had enough of this leisurely pace fingering though, he just has to have his dick inside you now. he would promise to go slow but he knows he can't promise that. you don't see his dick before he goes into you, if you did you'd say something but instead you feel it. more girth than most and nine inches long thus as he starts to thrust into you you let out a moan that soon fades into a silent scream.

with each inch you feel that it must be it but then there's more, he knows he should've spent more time getting you ready for him but the idea of waiting even a minute longer was torture.

at the same time of being fully inside you, you wince, and satoru places a chaste kiss on your lips. there's a fleeting thought as you wince about how you think his cock has broken you, so far he's in your guts. he keeps his hold on you as he thrusts shallowly a few times testing the waters and playfully pinching your nipple to see your reaction.

you try to speak but the words get caught in your throat and it doesn't take long for gojo to speed up, not even a minute and he's already thrusting hard and fast into you, a creamy white ring already forming at the base of his cock. his pace doesn't falter, in fact it gets more rough as satoru sees your face. it's hard for you to even think, you've never been this full before, you're eyes are glazed over and you've got your mouth open drooling a bit, he thinks you look so adorably dumb. "look at you princess you look so dumb right now, so stupid. you don't even have one thought in your head do you? it's so fucking hot. not thinking or worrying, all that matters is this, you don't need to think i'll do it for you."

satoru lifts up one of your thighs and puts it on his shoulder, at the new position it feels like he's reaching even deeper. you whine so loud that people walking outside would hear. "my cock's making you lose braincells huh?" he grins, tapping your cheek gently to get your attention. you look up at him in a daze and he sniggers. "not a thought behind those eyes."

at the new angle you try to grab hold of his arm but struggle to focus losing grip straight away, squealing, "ah it feels s' good 'toru!"

satoru is pleased that you've spoken something, that you've been able to form an legible sentence, he's even more pleased at how good you sound squealing, knowing that he's the one who's made you sound like that. however more than all of that he's overjoyed that you called him 'toru' it sounds so perfect from your mouth.

"i know, i know, you're so good for me princess, such a good girl." he keeps slamming into you at a brutal pace and he wants you to come undone around him soon before he cums. "hear that princess, your pussy is so wet and sticky for me. she knows what she wants huh," he grins and starts pinching your nipples, watching as your eyes roll back.

he's fucking you so rough that your body is moving up and down on the sofa, jiggling with each thrusts, and as he watches your body bounce he gets closer and closer. he normally lasts so much longer but he can't help it with you, it's impossible for him to keep his regular time when your warm wet walls are wrapping around his cock, when he's inside you.

satoru can't wait any longer removing his hand from your nipple and bringing it to your clit, rubbing harshly as you shriek from the sudden extra stimulation, as you get tighter around him he sucks his teeth so close to cumming, "are you going to cum for me sweetheart?"

you don't say anything, you don't have time to answer him because instead the coil in the stomach that has been winding up for the last half an hour snaps, with the added help of gojo touching your clit, you arch your back, and your eyesight goes fuzzy seeing white dots. you've never had such an intense orgasm before, it drowned out noise and made everything hard to hear, you didn't even know cumming could do that. everyone was right about sex with satoru.

feeling you spasm around him was even for him to finish as well, a few more thrusts into you and he lost it cumming too. if he was a better man he would've pulled out but satoru knew that he would never pull out when it comes to you. he's seen birth control in your bathroom before and when he saw it he frowned, he hopes that you missed it today. either way he's making sure to bury himself in you as deep as he can get hoping that even if you did take birth control today it won't be good enough to stop his intention- his deep desire to breed you. thoughts racing through his head, 'silly girls don't need to go to university they should just stay at home. i've got more than enough money to look after her. she'd look so good, her body even softer than it already is. she'd make such a good mama.' as he comes his body goes taut and he groans loudly saying your name and stilling.

you're both catching your breathe, not speaking for a minute, recovering for the most mindblowing sex both of you have ever had.

he wants to stay where he is but he knows he can't. when he moves you whimper, feeling empty all of a sudden, and it makes his ego rise, "sorry princess, i'm going to get you a towel okay." satoru kisses your forehead before rising and getting a towel from the bathroom, coming back and kneeling, swiping the towel gently over your inner thighs and pussy. kissing your hip and looking back at you, "are you okay?"

you're breathless as you reply, "yeah."

satoru smirks, "that's good."

you cover your face with your hands, timid with the way gojo's focused on you. putting the towel down he holds onto your hands and removes them from your face so he can see you again, smiling at you sweetly and kissing your forehead again.

"satoru what's going to happen now?" you're almost silent, if he wasn't so laser focused on every movement and thing you do he might not have heard.

"we could watch another film but it's getting late."

"no... i mean with us..."

satoru furrows his eyebrows, not understanding the question. "us?"

"yeah i-i mean are we s-still friends?"

"friends?" he looks at you like you've grown an extra head and your stomach sinks, if you knew this would've been the outcome you would've done something differently.

you don't want to lose gojo, you really don't want to lose gojo. you don't want to cry in front of him, you don't want it to get misconstrued and him to think that you're trying to manipulate him or change his mind but the idea of not having satoru in your life is heartbreaking. wait... heartbreaking? however the tears still come and the words get lodged in your throat. you manage to get some words out but it's barely audible with how erratic your breathing is becoming and how you keep swallowing every five seconds. "can i do anything to make us be friends again? i don't want to lose you." you're sniffling and you know you sound needy and probably desperate too but that's not your main focus right now.

"lose me?" he squints and gently wipes the tears from your face. "why would you lose me?" he cups you cheek, "princess how do you feel about me?"

your mouth parts open, you're glad that he's suggesting that you're not going to lose him but that's completely overshadowed with the question he's asked. you stay silent, not moving a muscle, how do you feel about him?

'satoru's my friend, my best friend! so... i feel that he's my friend? did i feel this way about my other friends? i lost my other friends and it was awful, i hated it but if i lost satoru... i think it would be worse than awful. maybe soul crushing is accurate... heartbreaking sounds more accurate. can someone be heartbroken about a friend? can i?'

you can't say anything, you don't know what to say, all your thoughts are muddled and you feel lost. gojo's still cupping your cheek, now stroking it with his thumb. "alright then princess, let me tell you." you don't know how he's going to tell you, you don't even understand yourself. "you don't see me as a friend anymore." he says simply and your eyes widen, and he holds onto your elbow with no force with his other hand to stop you if you try to draw away.

"do you know why i know that princess?" satoru asks you, his voice tethered, borderlining on husky. unsure you shake your head. "because friends don't act like you do. they don't get jealous about the thought of me taking girls out to restaurants, they don't check me out when they think i'm not looking. friends don't make a photo of us together as their lockscreen and wallpaper-"

at that you interrupt him, "you have me on your lockscreen too!" but he puts his fingers to your lips to gesture for you to keep quiet.

"not finished yet sweetheart. friends don't send each other good morning texts as soon as they wake up and they don't memorise my order at cafés we go to. friends don't stare at my lips and compliment my eyes all the time. friends don't look at me longingly. friends don't go to romantic restaurants alone together."

he pauses watching with rapt attention as you look down at your lap, he doesn't make you look up at him this time and waits for your response. when you decide to look back at him you calm your breathing as much as you can, "b-but you do those things too satoru..."

satoru grins brightly, "yeah i do, sooo... that would mean what?" he presses you to answer him.

"do you- do you- am i more than a friend to you satoru?"

"bingo!"

you feel like you're dreaming, nothing feels real. you could never of guessed that gojo feels that way or that you're his type. "is that why we had sex?"

satoru chuckles, not answering but instead replying, "you're so cute!" it makes your face heat up. "do you want me to tell you a secret?" you're nervous and dubious but you nod your head softly. gojo moves even closer than you, "you're more than just my friend princess," he leans closer to your ear and whispers "i love you."

you blink at him- once, twice, three times. you understand now that gojo is more than a friend to you and you recognise it's been this way for a very long time but through all his speech you didn't consider he felt the same. maybe that's why you didn't understand your own feelings, because if gojo acts the same as you do and calls you his friend you never questioned about if you really felt friendship towards him.

how long as satoru known all this and has kept you in the dark? what if he choose not to ever tell you? would you end up in a relationship with someone else only to break their heart when you finally realise that you're in love with satoru. your mouth is dry and you lick your lips swallowing to wet them, your voice still sounds a little hoarse though as you say, "why didn't you tell me?"

"because you'll understand and accept your own feelings and mine. i wanted to tell you but i know you, i knew that you would just deny it and ignore your feelings and it could result in something changing with us and that was the last thing i wanted sweetheart, it would kill me but i knew that it was time. i knew that you'd accept both of our feelings," he asserts and he's so close to you that you can feel his body heat.

you know what he's saying is true but you can't help but pout. "how do you know me better than myself satoru?"

satoru chuckles. well he does spend a great deal of his time loving everything you do...

"plus i couldn't keep it in any longer princess, i swear i was going mad. i would probably have folded soon and tell you," he whines and you giggle.

you take a deep breath and look at him straight in the eye, your whole body feeling fuzzy, "satoru i love you."

'yeah i know.'

gojo grins and wipes his forehead dramatically, "thank god." he holds onto the nape of your neck and pulls you to his lips so he can kiss you hungrily, as he pulls away he asks "do you still want to sleep in the spare room tonight? my room is more comfortable... and there may be some boxes on the bed that i haven't moved."

your eyes widen, "say you're joking 'toru!"

he throws his hands up and grins "well..."

you don't stay mad at him long, you've both confessed your love to each other it's not like you can be annoyed at him, you grin back, "i can't believe you."

"i swear it wasn't planned just a happy coincidence... that i chose not to tell you about... but it's okay because we can just use that room for any of your extra stuff when you move in."

you open your mouth wide in disbelief, "i cannot believe you satoru!"

"aw come on you know you love me!" he chuckles and you glare at him before be pokes your cheek and you start laughing too.

[niwaart]

Family without light.

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Bruce and Y/N divorced after more than 15 years of marriage. The marriage was only for the sake of cooperation between the two companies, not for love. But after Y/N's father died and she took over the company, she decided to cancel the contract between them and divorce him. But... that's not what matters to Damian now... what matters to him is what happened after Y/N left the house. He thought that when she left, nothing would happen, he always ignored her or even fought with her or said harsh words in front of her and behind her. But... when did his wounds and injuries become so painful? After all, it's not the first time he got injured while fighting some villains. After all, he was trained by his mother Talia to be strong and feel as painless as possible. So he's surprised by the pain he feels from a mere scratch! His mother would be disappointed if she knew about this. But that's not the only change Damian has noticed. Y/N usually took him home from school and home to school and sometimes took him to the mall to buy food for his pets or to the Kent family's house. Now that she was gone, it was Alfred who drove him with Bruce and sometimes Jason. Tim barely had time for himself and Dick wasn't in Gotham. So when Jason was busy on a case and Alfred was busy, he would wait for one of them to come or he would walk home. As the days went by he was getting tired of it, the commute between home and school was too long... and he missed the places Y/N used to take him. She would take him after shopping to see the ocean or even to a fancy place to buy him nice clothes that fit his taste... she knew how to choose clothes... comfortable and cool at the same time. He missed when she would stop at the candy store or ice cream shop to buy his favorite flavor without telling Alfred. He missed when she would defend him in front of his father, she knew when he was lying or not. And when Bruce punishes him by stopping him from going on patrol, Y/N will bring the Robin costume that Bruce hid and then she will ask him to go in patrol, whether Bruce wants to or not. He missed her when she would stand waiting for him every day after school, start another fight in the car with her, and make it up to him with ice cream even though she didn't do anything wrong... He missed her... So he had a plan, a plan for her to come and take him from school to the market. A few weeks ago, Damian saw one of the students at his school calling their mother because they were sick. So Damian was going to call Y/N... and tell her he was sick and she would take him! Yeah, after all, it had been 3 months since the divorce, she must be missing him by now. Right?

"Yes Damian Wayne? What's wrong?" The headmistress said with a raised eyebrow upon seeing Damian hoping he wasn't here because of another fight.

Damian looked at her for a few moments nervous and a little excited. "I'm sick... I need to go home early today. Can I call someone to pick me up?" Damian said using his acting skills and speaking in a pale and sick voice. The principal was surprised and nodded "Of course you can, go ahead you can call your family." The principal gave him the phone and Damian took it after thanking her he went out and stood in the school corridor while writing down Y/N's number after writing down the number he was nervous and his finger hovered over the call button. after taking a deep breath he pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear... After waiting for an eternity (for Damian) a familiar voice answered. "Yes? Who's calling?" Damian forgot for a while why he was calling but he finally answered.

"I-It's me, Damian... I'm calling from school..." Damian said cursing himself for stuttering.

"Okay?... What do you want?"

"I... I'm sick... and Alfred is busy, I need you to pick me up from here." Damian answered lowering his voice, to show that he was sick. There was a long moment of silence… then Y/N answered, “Why should I?… I don’t have a connection to Bruce anymore, so you’re not my responsibility anymore.” Damian felt a lump in his throat… like he was choking, did she not miss him? Did she no longer love him? Or care about him? Was everything she did fake? No… it was real, he felt it! Damian answered in a voice close to tears while cursing himself internally for his weakness, “What?… But I… I… I’m sick…” Damian couldn’t hold back the tears that started to fall. “then call your mom… I’m busy, don’t call again.” Y/N hung up the phone before Damian could answer. Damian tried not to fall and cry, tried to wipe away his tears, tried to hide the trembling of his body, but he failed. After crying silently in the bathroom for a while, he washed his face and handed the phone back to the principal, looking down, trying to avoid her gaze. The day passed quietly, Alfred came late as always and got into the car silently as usual, but this time he was sadder. After several more months, Damian was about to forget about it and act like nothing happened. He was walking out of school and heading to his new seating area where he would sit while waiting for Alfred or Jason. But he noticed something… no, someone… It was Y/N! Damian's heart fluttered with joy and he wanted to run to her… She came for him!… That's what Damian thought as he prepared to run to her… But before his joy could be complete, he saw a twin from the same school he goes to. They hugging Y/N… Why? Damian looked at them in confusion… then he heard one of them say 'Auntie'… then Damian knew that Y/N didn't come for him… but for those two, Damian was hit with another wave of sadness, he was about to cry, he was close to crying but he didn't in front of people… so he silently walked to the spot where he sits to wait for someone to take him home while he watched Y/N from afar… she patted the two kids on the head… hugged them, opened the car door for them… Damian's breath was shaky, he was about to break down, why did she have to be nice to them, what about him? He also wanted her to look at him, smile at him, ask him how school was, and spoil him with sweets… he wanted someone to take care of him… he wanted her to take care of him like Talia didn't… he missed Y/N. He will do anything to back the days before she leave him... he promise to himself.

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[dirtyvulture]

The Maid - Part 2

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4705

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: Thank you so much for the response to part 1! And thank you to everyone who was so patient and understanding for this part taking a while to write. I hope you all like it.

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Wanda seems to be in a better mood lately, Natasha notices, probably because the two of you rekindled whatever complicated romance you had going on. And as sad and lonely as it had made Natasha feel, at least Wanda was being less rude to her, and that would always be a win in her book.

The grocery trips and errands she sends Natasha on are less demanding, although Natasha’s unsure if she’s becoming more comfortable or Wanda’s gotten less picky. Wanda still requests Natasha’s help for her weekly meetings, and Natasha cannot understand why someone who is unemployed goes so out of her way to find the most mundane, meaningless things to participate in. But it keeps Natasha paid and busy, and she still gets to see you a few times a week.

“What are you doing this weekend, Natasha?” Wanda asks while the two of them are in the kitchen. Wanda is on her laptop while Natasha stands at the counter, cutting vegetables for dinner.

“Um…” Natasha knows better than to tell Wanda the truth, which is that she’ll be sitting alone in her apartment for the next two days and eating ice cream on her couch. “Some friends invited me to go shopping with them at the mall,” she lies. She doesn’t have friends and she certainly doesn’t have the budget to shop at a mall after all the debt she still owes.

“I’ll be gone all weekend with some girlfriends,” Wanda says, not even acknowledging Natasha’s plans, which makes her wonder why she had even bothered to ask in the first place. “I’m not into wine tasting much, but the girls go nuts for it. I’m just going for the spa at the resort, between you and me.”

Natasha has no idea what to do with this information. But she’s spared from answering when the garage door rumbles open.

Wanda slams her laptop shut. “Oh, Y/N is home early.” She gets up to greet you. Natasha can hear your voices carry through the hall.

“You’re early tonight,” Wanda says. “I was just telling Natasha about my weekend plans to Vermont with the girls–”

“Your weekend plans?” you interrupt. “Since when did you have plans to go to Vermont?” Natasha has never heard you sound genuinely angry before. She stops cutting the carrots to focus on eavesdropping.

“Carol wanted to go for her birthday!” your wife says.

“Wanda,” you say, your voice lowering. “Our anniversary is this weekend. I booked us a stay at the Ritz and got us tickets to see Wicked–”

“Well, just ask for a refund!” Wanda hisses. Natasha is stunned that this is her first response to forgetting about her entire anniversary with you. “And we can celebrate when I get back–”

“‘Get back?’” you repeat. “That’s not the point, Wanda. Why don’t you ask for a refund for your trip–”

“I can’t do that to the girls,” Wanda says. “Carol’s been looking forward to this for months!”

You mumble something that Natasha can’t hear. She feels awful for you. Clearly, you had spent a lot of money and time planning a nice outing, and your wife didn’t seem to care one bit. In fact, she tried to put the blame on you for intruding on her plans. Natasha felt herself shaking with rage for you. You deserved so much better.

The two of you trudge into the kitchen and Natasha hastily goes back to cutting the carrots. Wanda is hanging onto your arm, tiptoeing to whisper into your ear but you shake her off and walk through the kitchen to the staircase. Natasha knows that Wanda is glaring at the back of her head, probably upset that she had overheard, but for once she doesn’t say anything and disappears after you.

The mood is particularly subdued when Natasha serves up roasted salmon with a colorful vegetable medley and mashed potatoes. 

“Thank you, Natasha,” you say as she hands you a loaded plate. 

Wanda doesn’t say anything when Natasha gives her a plate.

While the two of you eat in awkward silence, Natasha cleans up the kitchen, her final task of the day. She grabs her purse and heads towards the door, when she hears footsteps behind her.

It’s you.

“Can I walk you out to your car?” you ask. “I know it’s a safe neighborhood, but I don’t want you walking out in the dark by yourself.”

Natasha is so flattered by your offer she doesn’t stop to consider how Wanda might feel about this.

“Sure, I really appreciate that. Thank you.” She leads the way out of your house.

“Sorry you always have to park around the corner,” you add, maintaining a respectful distance from her on the sidewalk. “I’ve told Wanda the whole neighborhood knows you work for us. But she’s…” you trail off, clearly not wanting to speak ill of your wife.

“I’m sorry she forgot your anniversary,” Natasha blurts out. 

You seem startled that Natasha had been eavesdropping, but quickly recover. “Well, it’s…it’s not the first time she’s done it,” you admit in a soft voice. “I don’t know why I bother trying to do anything special anymore. It’s just another day to her. And it seems like she’d rather spend it with anyone but me.”

“She’s missing out,” Natasha says, surprised by her own confidence. “You’re a wonderful person and you deserve someone who will appreciate the efforts you go to celebrate important milestones like that.” She stops before she can offer herself up.

“Oh. Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.” 

The two of you stop at Natasha’s beat-up Nissan. 

“Thanks for walking me to my car–” she starts.

“Are you busy this weekend?” you ask suddenly, in a rushed whisper as if Wanda is around the corner listening. “If you’re not, would you like to see Wicked with me at the Gershwin Theater? I told Wanda I could probably get a credit with the Ritz, but I don’t want to deal with the hassle of exchanging the tickets, too. You can come over Saturday night and I’ll drive us?”

Natasha is so shocked by your proposal she doesn’t even have the words to agree at first. Growing up, she had loved watching musical movies until the VHS tapes wore out, but she had never had the opportunity to see a live performance. Even now as an adult, she still didn’t have the time nor the budget to see a show. To hear you ask that you wanted her to join you, when you had bought the tickets for you and your wife to enjoy on your anniversary she had forgotten, sounded almost too good to be true.

But if Wanda found out you had taken Natasha instead of her…Natasha shuddered at the thought. Maybe this was stepping over the line of professionalism. Natasha wanted to keep her job (and her head), and as much as the opportunity was a dream come true for her, she didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness or weakness.

“Um, I’m supposed to go shopping at the mall with some friends on Saturday,” Natasha says, cringing at the patheticness of her life. “But really–thank you for inviting me. I’m sure you have friends you’d rather take over your maid.”

“I don’t have any friends,” you say, so deadpan that Natasha almost laughs but quickly turns it into a cough when she realizes you’re being serious. While you seemed more reserved than your wife, Natasha refused to believe you didn’t have a strong social network. You were in charge of your own company and clearly doing well if you lived in this neighborhood and could afford a personal housemaid like her.

“Good evening!” The two of you startle when a cheery voice comes out of nowhere.

“Hello, Mr. Vision,” Natasha says, spotting the eccentric man first as he walks by at a rapid pace.

“Late night walk, Vis?” you call out, and he nods with a wave, pumping his arms faster and milling away. The only thing Natasha knew about Vision was that he lived by himself at the end of the street. He had no wife or kids that she knew of, not even a job as he was constantly seen walking around the neighborhood at odd hours. But he never approached Natasha or made her feel uncomfortable, which was more than she could say for most of the people living here, so she was happy to ignore him.

When Vision moves out of sight, you say, “Well, if your plans happen to change…” You fumble in your pockets awkwardly, pulling out a bent business card and handing it to Natasha. “My cell number is on there. Text me before Saturday if you’re still interested.”  

“Okay.” Natasha doesn’t want to get your hopes (or hers) up, but she still isn’t convinced this is a good idea. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Natasha.”

She loves the way her name sounds coming out of your mouth.

***********************************************************************

Natasha is still unsure she made the right decision to turn down your offer to see Wicked. She even called her only friend, Clint, to ask if she should’ve said yes.

“Well, you’re just seeing a show together. Think of it like a work bonus or something. Bosses give their employees nice stuff like that all the time,” Clint says as Natasha picks at a box of takeout in front of the television. Cooking at home was not her favorite chore after doing it all day for her clients.

“Yes, but it’s just the two of us,” Natasha stresses. “Y/N got the tickets to celebrate an anniversary and Wanda already hates me as it is–”

“Nah, she doesn’t hate you,” Clint says.

“You haven’t met her! You don’t see the way she treats me.”

“Exactly. Maybe this is Y/N’s way of apologizing for her behavior,” Clint says.

“I don’t know…” It was already Friday night. Natasha didn’t have much time now to change her mind if she was going to.

“Be nice to yourself, Nat. Let someone do something for you,” Clint goes on. “You work so hard for these people all the time. And I know how much you’ve always wanted to see a live performance.” Natasha feels tears well up in her eyes. She wishes Clint was here in person so she could give him a hug. “Nothing bad will happen. Just tell Y/N you want to go before someone else takes your spot.”

Natasha takes a steely breath. Clint is right. It wasn’t a date. It just was her nice boss treating her out to a Broadway show. Never mind the fact that you had intended to take your wife initially. Wanda would never have to know, right?

“Okay. Thanks, Clint.”

“Enjoy!”

As soon as she hangs up, Natasha goes into her texts. She already created a contact for you the night you gave her your business card. Her anxiety is through the roof as she types out a message to you, then deletes it and starts over. She gets more and more frustrated trying to find the right words, before she finally throws in the towel and clicks “Send.”

Less than a minute later, you respond.

Happiness explodes inside of Natasha. She can hardly believe her luck. Not only does she get to see her first Broadway show, but she gets to see it with you, and have dinner on top of it. She darts over to her closet, looking for the nicest dress she owns.

Wanda be damned. Natasha was going to have a great night with you. 

***********************************************************************

“Table for two, please.”

“Did you have a reservation?” the blonde woman at the podium asks.

“No,” you respond.

“Oh, well, I’m so sorry, but we’re all booked out for the evening,” she apologizes. 

Natasha stands behind you meekly. She can’t even pronounce the name of the restaurant and doesn’t know what kind of food they serve, but it’s probably far beyond anything she could ever afford. She’s wearing a dark green dress that almost reaches her ankles and is conservative in protecting her assets, and spent over an hour doing her makeup, and she wonders if strangers will look at the two of you and assume you’re a couple. She wouldn’t go out of her way to correct them.   

“That’s okay. This was a last-minute plan for us,” you explain. “If Tony is working tonight, can you please tell him Y/N stopped by to say hello?”

“Wait, you know Mr. Stark?” the woman pales. “Don’t go anywhere. You said your name is Y/N?”

You smile and nod. The woman steps down from her podium and dashes into the back. 

“I thought you said you didn’t have any friends,” Natasha boldly teases. 

You turn and wink at her. 

“Tony and I went to college together,” you explain, although this implies you shared a friendship of some kind. “And clearly, his business is doing better than mine–”

The woman quickly returns with a short bearded man wearing a gray suit with red-tinted glasses that match his tie. 

“Y/N!” Tony shouts, embracing you in a dramatic hug. “You should’ve told me you were coming tonight! I could’ve put together a private booth in the back–”

“It was last-minute,” you say. “This is Natasha, by the way. She’s a friend.” Natasha is thrilled at the way you associate her with you.

“Hello, Natasha, I’m Tony.” He takes her hand and gently kisses her knuckles. He doesn’t seem surprised you haven’t brought Wanda along instead. “I take it you haven’t been here before, Miss Natasha? You won’t need a menu, I’ll have the chef bring out the best dishes we have tonight.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you say. 

“Follow me! You can have a table in our east wing. Where’s Wanda?” Tony says rapid-fire, turning around and leading them deeper into the restaurant. You step out of the way and motion to let Natasha go first, and she feels your hand graze her back as she walks past you. 

“She’s out with her girlfriends for the weekend,” you answer from behind Natasha. 

“Your anniversary is coming up, right?” Tony asks.

“Yes,” you respond, your voice suddenly tense.

The restaurant is packed, every visible table filled with customers, until they turn around a corner to a quiet, completely empty area.

“Pick any table. I’ll have a waiter come out with some drinks shortly,” Tony says.

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Natasha echoes, unsure if she likes this special treatment. You pick a table near the corner and pull her chair out for her. As soon as the two of you are seated, a waiter in a vested suit appears with a few bottles of wine, making suggestions and pouring samples into the glasses. Natasha doesn’t have enough knowledge to understand what he’s saying or differentiate the tastes, but she enjoys the experience. It feels strange to have someone serve her, when she’s normally the one waiting on people’s every demand. 

The two of you share several appetizers together. Natasha feels like she’s floating in a dream. You have been nothing but generous and respectful to her, but every time your left hand reaches across the table for the caviar, the wedding ring on your finger taunts her. 

The dinner itself is a four-course affair, including a rich chocolate cake that Natasha devours faster than she can fully enjoy. When the bill arrives (which Tony has already chopped in half), Natasha still asks if she can chip in (despite knowing full well she doesn’t have the money to cover even her portion), but you push her card away and give the waiter your black card.

The theater is three blocks from Tony’s restaurant, so you leave your car in valet parking and ask Natasha if she’s okay walking. She had not planned ahead very well, so she only has a thin cardigan to cover her shoulders. You notice her shivering and offer her your heavy black jacket that completely engulfs her frame. Your scent completely surrounds her now and Natasha swears she won’t wash this dress ever again.

The line into the theater moves quickly and Natasha follows you all the way down to the front, where your seats are perfectly center to the stage. She crawls over a few people, feeling a little smug about getting some of the best seats in the house. You had truly spoiled her tonight and she was never going to forget this. 

She leans over to whisper to you before the show begins. “Thank you for everything tonight. I’ve already had so much fun and the dinner was amazing.”

“You’re very welcome. Thank you for joining me, and thank you for all the hard work you do for my family,” you say and Natasha beams. “Me and Wanda really appreciate it.” Natasha deflates a little at the mention of your wife, but she pushes her out of her mind to focus on her time with you. 

As they wait, Natasha props her arm up on the armrest between you two so she can hold the playbill at a comfortable angle to read. Suddenly, your arm drops heavily on hers and she looks at you in confusion. You’re reading your own playbill and don’t seem to notice that your massive arm is practically crushing hers.

“Um, Y/N?” she prompts, clearing her throat.

“Hmm? Oh!” You quickly move your arm off hers. “I’m so sorry, I thought that was Wanda’s arm,” you explain with a nervous chuckle. Natasha laughs too, although she isn’t sure if she should be happy or worried that she reminds you of your wife. She’d be happy to take Wanda’s place any day, though. 

The musical is amazing, impressive beyond anything Natasha had ever expected. She cries when Elphaba defies gravity, and after the whirlwind of the second act, she is among the first to give a standing ovation. She’s floating on cloud nine as she walks with you out of the theater back to the car.

The drive back to your home is quick at the late hour. Just as you're about to pull into the driveway, you slam hard on the brakes, jolting everyone forward. Vision power walks past the beams of your headlights, only breaking the pump of his arms to wave in thanks.

“What is he doing out so late?” you ask, and Natasha is relieved to know she’s not the only one who thinks his habits are a bit odd.

“No idea,” she mumbles, watching you pull onto the driveway and stop.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” Natasha says, still giddy with excitement.“This was the best night of my life. I’ve always wanted to see a Broadway show, ever since I was a little girl. I never thought I’d get the chance, even after I moved here–”

“You’re very welcome,” you interrupt, seeming almost shy with the praise.

“I’m sorry Wanda wasn’t able to join you for your own anniversary,” she adds, although she’s not sure why.

You shrug. “Nothing we can do about it now. Besides, I’m glad you were able to join me and had such a fun night. I don’t think this would have been nearly as fun by myself.”

There is a pause and Natasha has to force herself to stop looking at your lips. If she had no self-restraint, it wouldn’t have taken much for her to lean over the center console and kiss you.

“Have a good night, Natasha. Drive home safely,” you say as the two of you get out of the car.

“Thank you again!” Natasha doesn’t even listen to music on her way home, riding out the high of what was easily one of the most memorable nights of her life in over a decade.

***********************************************************************

A few weeks later, Natasha is working a double shift: the first one at Steve’s house, and the second at yours. You’re away at work, as usual, but she knows you’ll be home before she leaves for the day, and she never takes any glimpse of you for granted. Wanda is also back to being demanding and cranky, and Natasha has no idea if you told her about the night the two of you had together. She had felt the silent instruction from you not to blab about her taking Wanda’s place and was happy to keep the memories to herself.

She’s in the front hall, mopping while quietly humming “Defying Gravity” to herself, when Wanda clacks by in high-heels.

“Natasha!” she hisses. “Didn’t I tell you to start in the kitchen? If I slip out here because the floor is wet–”

“So sorry!” Natasha apologizes, hoping that she doesn’t finish her sentence. “I’ll put a fan on.” She rests her mop against the wall and darts off for the $300 Dyson fan in the closet. After pointing it towards the gleaming floor, she pushes her cart into the kitchen and continues mopping. She makes sure to open the window to air out the smell, and notices Steve across the street mowing his lawn. 

She stares at him, wondering if he can see her, and her question is quickly answered when Steve waves to her. She returns his wave with a smile, then goes back to her task before Wanda can complain she isn’t working hard enough. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him back away from his lawn mower and answer his phone; he disappears into his house hurriedly. 

“Natasha! Always make sure you open a window when you mop!” Wanda’s screech comes out of nowhere. “The chemicals you use give me a headache!”

“Oh, but the window is open–” Natasha tries to explain, but Wanda silences her with a wave of her hand.

“I’m on the phone!” she says, pointing to the cell phone held up to her ear. Natasha bites her lip, but holds her tongue. “Sorry, honey, what was that? No, I was talking to the maid,” she says. Natasha perks up despite the way Wanda titles her. You’re clearly on the other line, and maybe you’ll be home sooner than expected.

But Wanda disappears into a guest room (your house had so many of those), and Natasha can no longer hear her conversation. She dutifully continues to mop the floor, careful to fan the mop in a semi-circle pattern so as not to trap herself in a corner. She moves the chairs to the hallway one at a time, cursing their awkward shape that makes them difficult to carry and taking special care not to scrape the feet along the floor. 

Wanda’s shrill voice carries through the house again, this time covering a topic that makes Natasha’s cheeks heat up.

“Oh my God, yes, I’m still thinking about last night,” Wanda says. “When you had my legs behind my head–”

Natasha tries not to picture Wanda folded up like a pretzel while you plow into her. But she can imagine herself in a similar position (she’s not so confident in her own flexibility, but she’d make it work for you). Your hands could probably fit around her whole thighs as you push her legs apart wider, thrusting your hips in long strokes to fit your big dick into her. Natasha is embarrassed to admit that the last time she had masturbated, she had thought of you the whole time.

How much more you’d fill her compared to the flimsy toy she was using. How you would feel throbbing inside her, your body pressed hot and heavy against hers as you beg for her permission to finish. Imagining having you like that, with that kind of control, brought Natasha to the most amazing orgasm of her life. If only you had been there to share it with her. 

“I didn’t know if you’d be able to go another round, but you proved me wrong,” Wanda continues, and Natasha picks up on how breathless she sounds. She wonders if she’s touching herself right now, with Natasha mopping in the kitchen. Somehow, that wouldn’t be shocking to her. “You were still so hard when I put you down my throat.”

A lightning bolt of arousal strikes Natasha’s core. She can’t focus on mopping anymore, staring blankly out the kitchen window, lost in the new filthy fantasy playing in her head, guided by Wanda’s narration. 

Natasha lies between your legs, her lips barely brushing your hips as she takes your cock down her throat. She prays her gag reflex doesn’t protest at the obstruction in her airway, but despite the slight discomfort, she wants to do this all day. Your pants and moans are like music in her ears, urging her on to suck harder and take you deeper.

“Please Nat,” your voice wavers. The muscle fibers in your thighs are visibly tensed and your back arches off the bed when Natasha pushes your hips down, trying to maintain some kind of control over you. But your body seems to have a mind of its own, with only one goal in mind. 

“It’s almost like I can still taste you.”

You poke at the back of her throat and Natasha can feel the hot throbbing of your cock in her mouth. She’s so eager to swallow anything you’ll give her, she’s almost embarrassed in her desperation, but when your hands cup the back of her head, pushing her down so she can fit the last inch down her throat, she knows the two of you are on equal planes of passion.

Your entire body flexes and the anticipation for Natasha is overwhelming. You finally inhale sharply as the first hot spurt lands on her tongue. 

“Being on your knees for me is a good look for you.”

Natasha tips her head back against the wall, her fingers tangling in your hair. One of her legs rests on your shoulder while the other is spread far apart so you can kneel between them, your mouth pressed against her heat. Your tongue swirls around her clit and Natasha fears she won’t be able to stay standing much longer. 

“Y/N,” she pants, clutching your head tighter and rocking her hips forward. “I need you.”

Your fingernails dig harder into her thigh to still her. You look up into her eyes and Natasha thinks she’s going to finish right there. “You have me, baby. I’m all yours.”

“But there’s really only one place you belong.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you grunt, almost sending Natasha headfirst into the headboard with every one of your thrusts. “I could stay inside you forever.”

Natasha hums at the praise. She’s holding on the bedsheets for life, spasming and clenching around you, trying to pull you in deeper. You fill her so perfectly, she’s convinced her body was made for yours. 

“Tell me I’m better than her,” Natasha gasps, fighting to delay her own release.

“Fuck Wanda,” you grunt, pulling back on Natasha’s hips at the same time you thrust forward, burying your entire length into her. “I love you, Natasha. You’re the only one I ever want to be with.”

A noisy car engine pulls Natasha out of her head. Her face feels flushed with arousal, and she knows what she’s doing the second she goes home. Your green car suddenly pulls into the driveway but stops. You get out and walk to the street, grabbing one of the trash bins and pulling it towards the house.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck me again,” Wanda says in the background.

The realization crashes down on Natasha’s head like a cold shower. She watches you grab the second bin with both hands, carefully walking backwards with it.

You’re not on the phone and you’re standing 30 feet away from Natasha. If Wanda’s not on the phone with you, then who is she talking to?

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

AN: Who do you think Wanda was talking to? 👀

To be continued...(hopefully)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[yutarot]

cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago. 

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation. 

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.” 

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

 “thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out. 

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces. 

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home. 

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush. 

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice. 

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask. 

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you. 

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation. 

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet. 

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face. 

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you. 

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you. 

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him. 

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.” 

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’ 

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon. 

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble. 

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun. 

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up. 

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply. 

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question. 

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little. 

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it. 

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts. 

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand. 

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it. 

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words. 

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself. 

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark. 

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.” 

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response. 

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.” 

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall. 

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning. 

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth. 

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre. 

but you weren't going to say no. 

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up. 

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that. 

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face. 

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun. 

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed. 

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in. 

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament. 

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. 

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry. 

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room. 

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself. 

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do. 

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper. 

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do. 

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you. 

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there. 

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night. 

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process. 

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue. 

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. 

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright. 

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say. 

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says. 

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain. 

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest. 

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagined how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say. 

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer. 

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity. 

your love. 

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater. 

it’s love. 

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness. 

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home. 

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire holiday (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back.) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret. 

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time. 

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest. 

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.” 

you turn to him in offence. 

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness. 

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time. 

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one. 

not even close. 

[desperate-gay]

Kristie mewis x reader panic attack or maybe a little relapse with reader and Kristie is there as her girlfriend .

Safe With You

Kristie Mewis x fem!reader

summary: during a girls’ night out, you encounter someone you never thought you’d see again, triggering a panic attack. Your best friend Kristie helps you through it and later helps reveal true feelings

“Ooo, this one right here!” Kelley yells, pointing out the downtown club. Some of the gotham girls, along with you, decided it was a beautiful night out and since you didn’t have any responsibilities the next day, it was a perfect time to go out.

“How many more do you think we’re gonna go to?” You ask, leaning over to Kristie’s ear so no other pondering friends can listen in.

“Let’s hope this will be the last.” Kristie huffs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and dragging you along with the group.

None of the girls are drunk but most are definitely tipsy. You have only had about two and a half drinks within the past couple of hours, so you’re not feeling any effects while Kristie has only had three.

Kelley is the most drunk out of everyone, even the younglings, and when Kelley is drunk, she never wants to stop partying. Many of the girls are not protesting considering this is the first free day they have had in weeks, especially Ali with having to take care of her kids.

The group finds a table somewhat in the corner of the bar, and a few of the girls go to the bar to order drinks. Kristie and you both sit on the high-top chairs across from Midge and Jenna. Kristie and Midge are in a heated discussion on what’s the best way to style and take care of your eyebrows while you and Jenna watch them with amused smiles.

Suddenly, a prickling at the back of your neck makes you turn around and flit your gaze nervously across the crowded room, almost as if a sudden fog made its way into the bar. As much as you look, you can’t seem to find anything out of the ordinary.

Relief washes over your face when Lynn arrives with hands full of drinks, sparking cheers around the table. Sure you haven’t drank much yet, but that just gives you reason to drink more now. Once you get a hold of your drink, you begin to take multiple large gulps, shocking the girls around you.

“Damn girl, the drink isn’t going anywhere.” Lynn teases while the other girls laugh along.

Kristie just stares at you in bewilderment, not being used to this side of you. You blush under everyone’s gaze and look around the dance floor to try and remove the unwanted attention.

Within minutes, many of the girls are pulled onto the dance floor, leaving you with Kristie and Midge at the table.

“How about you? What was the last date you had?” Midge asks you since you’re the only one who hasn’t shared. You shift a little uncomfortably at the two girl’s stares, especially one being your best friend who you have grown attracted to within the past year.

“Umm, it was a blind date set up by my friend a few months ago. He was sweet and all, but I just didn’t see it going anywhere.” You shrug, taking another sip of your drink.

“What did he do? Profession wise.” Midge wonders, intrigued by your love life you barely share any detail about.

“A lawyer.”

“So let me get this straight. He was sweet, a lawyer, and a good friend of your friend. Was he ugly?”

“No, he wasn't ugly at all, it’s just, I don’t know honestly.” You exhale, rubbing your hands on the glass cup sitting on the table.

“There has so got to be more to that story, but I’ll let you off the hook. For now.” Midge teases with a daunting glare directed at you.

You didn’t even realize how silent the blonde next to you had become. You couldn’t say the real reason as to why the blind date didn’t become a second one when the reason is sitting next to you. Around the time of the date, you began to feel new feelings about your best friend, and you’re still trying to depict them.

“You never told me about that date.” Kristie states, finally speaking up.

“I didn’t think it was that important.” You say, tensing your shoulders up subconsciously at the scene. Kristie just hums, not believing you for a second but deciding to let it go.

Soon Kelley returns to the table, drunk and ditsy, claiming everyone is such party poopers. You all roll your eyes at the girl but chuckle, and soon the blonde next to you is dragged by Kelley to the dance floor.

Kristie looks at you with pleading eyes as her arm is getting tugged off, begging for you to get her out of it, but you just shrug with an entertained smile. You notice the midfielder lipping something at you with a glare, but you’re too tipsy to understand.

“So, about that lawyer.” You laugh at the younger girl’s persistence, shaking your head with a disbelief look.

“Midgey, like I told you-”

That’s when you hear it. That booming, raspy laugh just a few feet away from you. You thought you’d never have to hear that ugly sound ever again, but of course, you’re proven wrong.

You slowly turn around, and when you do, you catch eyes with someone you haven’t seen since Boston College. His sinister smirk stretches across his face as he takes a sip of his beer, eyeing you up while the fear in your eyes grows.

Pins and needles spread through your limbs, leaving you numb. The glass in your hand feels distant, as if it belongs to someone else. Your ears become muffled, blocking Midge’s worried calls out for you. And then your heartbeat. It starts to speed up five times its usual pace, causing your breathing to match its fast rate.

“Midge, what’s going on?” Ali asks, having come back to rest from all the dancing.

“I have no clue, one second we were talking and the next we weren’t.” Midge furrows her eyebrows with a worried expression, trying to figure out how to help.

“Here, help me take her outside.” Ali demands, continuing to try and grab your attention and ask if it’s okay if she touches you.

When you don’t answer, Ali softly touches your arm and when you don’t react, she wraps your arm around her shoulder to support your weight. Midge wraps her arms around your midsection once Ali stands you up, and you can’t even feel either touch.

The girls get you so close until you suddenly become deadweight in the corner of the bar, dragging the two girls down with you so you don’t get injured. Your knees curl up to your chin, and your arms wrap around your legs. Your whole body feels like TV static, numbing your mind along with it.

“What do we do? She’s clearly panicking!” Midge begins to freak out, becoming extremely worried at your state, watching tears run down your wide eyes.

“Go get Kristie.”

“What?”

“Go grab Kristie! Now, Midge!” Ali doesn’t mean to yell, but she’s not sure how long you’ll go without passing out. Midge nods her head determinedly and runs onto the dance floor through the sweaty bodies to find the midfielder.

You never thought you’d run into that pathetic excuse of a man again. The beginning of your relationship was great sophomore year, but then it began to grow more tense. Arguing about the future, miscommunications, and disagreements turned into pushes, then slaps, and finally full-on punches.

It took you getting a concussion to finally put an end to what was happening. Kristie was there from the beginning, constantly trying to get you to move in with her and leave him, but you just couldn’t. Despite the abuse, you felt as if he still loved you.

Then a few months after the breakup came the stalking and threatening. He would follow you to classes, work, and even practices just to scare you. Along with that, we would make burner accounts and threaten to lie to the dean to get you kicked from school, and show explicit photos to your friends and family.

It took Kristie speaking up for you to finally file a restraining order. Ever since then, you haven’t seen or heard a peep from the man.

“What’s going on!” Kristie’s voice cuts through the loud air, approaching your curled-up body.

“We don’t know.” Midge admits, biting her lip anxiously at the scene of Kristie trying everything to get your attention.

“Well, what the hell happened!” Kristie’s voice raises, absolutely terrified at the state you're in and wanting to do whatever she can to get you out of it.

“One second we were talking and then the next she looked around and went into this!”

“Looked around?”

The midfielder quickly glances around the room, attempting to follow in your footsteps, and that’s when she sees it. More like sees him. That same smug smirk she remembers seeing years ago.

“Kriegs, I need you to go grab security. Quickly.” Without any hesitation, Ali runs to look for bouncers while Kristie turns her glare from the man over to you with a softened look.

Your eyes are looking everywhere and nowhere all at once. They’re moving yet you can’t focus or see a thing, but when you hear that familiar soothing voice, your vision begins to unblur.

“There you are.” The blonde states, watching your gaze finally make contact with hers.

Within seconds, your breathing begins to slow, reverting back to its original pace as soon as it can, helping your body relax and unnumb. Just the sound of Kristie’s voice and the soft touch of her hand have helped tremendously, although you aren’t in the clear.

Your breaths have slowed down from before but it’s still rapid compared to the normal rate, and most of your body remains dizzy.

“What can I help you with, ma’am?” The bouncer asks, approaching you two with Ali right next to him.

“I need you to get that man out of here.” Kristie demands, pointing to the cause of all this chaos.

“We can’t kick him out without cause. We haven’t heard any complaints.” The man asserts with furrowed brows, but Kristie doesn’t seem to take it.

“Is a restraining order enough? Escort him out or I will, sir.”

Many of the girls who have now gathered around, not too close to overwhelm you, eyes widened with impressed looks and smiles as they watch the bouncer scram to escort him out.

“Wow. Don’t wanna mess with Kristie and her girl.” Nealy mumbles to a nodding Jenna.

Meanwhile, you’re finally making progress on being able to talk, hear, and breathe normally. A lot of your body remains tingly along with weakness, but the blonde girl alongside you helps you with everything.

“Here she is.” Kristie murmurs softly, her voice cutting through the haze in your mind like sunlight breaking through a curtained window. Her steady tone anchors you, and your frantic gaze finally meets hers.

“You’re okay, you’re safe. I’m right here.” She calmly says, her touch is gentle but firm, hands rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your arms.

Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control of your breathing, each inhale catching like a hiccup in your throat. But her words, her presence, they’re a lifeline. Slowly, the static buzzing in your body begins to fade, replaced by a dull ache and a tingling warmth where her hands rest on your arms.

“That’s it.” Kristie encourages, her eyes locked on yours. “Breathe with me, okay? In and out.”

You nod shakily, mimicking her deep breaths. Your lungs still feel tight, but the rhythm she sets calms the chaos in your chest. Gradually, the room sharpens around you; the distant thrum of music, the faint chatter of the girls nearby. It’s overwhelming, but Kristie keeps your focus tethered to her.

“There you go.” she says when your breathing finally steadies. “You’re doing so good, honey.”

Your heart stumbles at her words, warmth spreading through your chest despite the lingering fear. You manage a small nod, though the effort feels monumental.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, your voice hoarse and shaky. “I don’t know what happened. I saw him, and-”

“Stop, you don’t have to explain right now. It’s not your fault.” Kristie interrupts gently, shaking her head.

“She’s right, Y/n. None of this is your fault.” Midge steps closer, her face lined with concern.

You exhale shakily, the pressure in your chest lightening as you take in their words. Slowly, with Kristie’s help, you rise to your feet. Your legs wobble, lightheadedness threatening to pull you down again, but her arm is already around your waist, holding you steady.

“Easy, I’ve got you.” She says softly, her steady grip grounding you.

Her closeness, the protective strength in her touch, is almost too much to bear. Your cheeks flush a deep red, and you glance away, hiding the way her presence affects you. But Kristie notices, of course she does. Her hand lingers on your waist as her gaze searches yours.

“How about we head home, yeah?” The older girl suggests with a small smile.

“Yeah.”

—

When Kristie suggested going home, you both decided to just stay over at her apartment. It was close and for some reason comfier than yours in your opinion.

The midfielder was quick to offer you her clothes to sleep in which included a t-shirt and shorts. You were so relieved to take off the tight pants you had on along with your bra that felt like it was pushing your breasts all the way into your back.

You’re both cuddled together on the couch watching some sitcom on the TV. Cuddling isn’t new to you two, but ever since you realized your feelings for the older girl, your chest tightens and your cheeks flush whenever she gets this close.

Within minutes you’re asleep on the blonde’s chest, your cheek resting on her grey sweater and hair splattered across your face. Kristie is not too far behind, having soothed herself to sleep by threading her nails through the top of your head while the show in the background plays lightly.

The night passes in a peaceful blur, and when morning comes, sunlight streams through the window, warming your face. You squint against the brightness, groaning softly as you blink yourself awake. The warmth of Kristie’s arm draped over you lingers, grounding you in the moment, but you still try to sit up as well as you can without waking the girl.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Kristie rasps, her voice low and husky from sleep, with a sleepy grin spreading across her face as she stretches her arms over her head.

If you were half asleep before, you sure as hell aren’t now. The sound of her morning voice, paired with the pet name, sends a shiver down your spine. You’re not used to this side of her, so confident, so close. It makes your pulse race in ways you’re not sure you can control.

Kristie immediately notices the change in your posture despite only being up for a few minutes. She slowly sits up next to you, watching the side of your face and observing your reaction to her getting closer to you. When you turn, you slightly jump having not actually seen her move up close to you.

“Hi.” You manage a shaky smile, your heart still racing from the sudden closeness.

“Hi.” The girl’s lips curl into a soft grin, her blue eyes flickering between yours as if searching for something unspoken. The way she leans closer makes your breath hitch.

A new tension rises between you two as you both stare at one another with longing eyes, wanting so much more but not making a move. You don’t want to pull away. Maybe this is when something can happen between you two, but you’re too afraid to make the first move.

Suddenly, Kristie’s voice breaks the air with something unexpected.

“Please tell me to stop if I’m doing something you don’t want or like.”

Your breath catches in your throat as her words hang in the air. Kristie’s voice is quiet, almost hesitant, but there’s a certainty in her tone that makes your pulse quicken once again. Her gaze remains locked on yours, searching for any sign of hesitation.

You should say something. Anything. But all you can do is stare at her, your heart pounding in your chest like it’s trying to escape, too nervous to do something wrong.

“Kristie.” You finally whisper, unsure of where the courage to speak comes from.

Her name falls from your lips like a plea, and that’s all the confirmation she seems to need. Slowly, carefully, she closes the small space between you.

Her hand brushes against yours, the touch featherlight, as if she’s giving you the chance to pull away. You don’t. Instead, your fingers curl slightly, brushing hers in return.

“Is this okay?” She asks softly, voice trembling just enough to betray her own nerves.

“Yeah. It’s more than okay.” You nod, barely able to speak.

A small smile tugs at her lips before she leans in, her forehead resting lightly against yours. Her breath is warm against your skin, and you swear the world outside her apartment melts away. It’s just you and her now, caught in this fragile, perfect moment.

Her hand lifts to your cheek, her thumb tracing the crevices of your skin. The touch sends shivers down your spine, and for the first time, you realize just how much you’ve wanted this. Just how much you’ve been concealing these emotions.

And then, finally, she kisses you.

It’s gentle at first, her lips brushing against yours like a question, but when you don’t pull away, when you kiss back, it deepens. Your hands find their way to her shoulders repositioning and anchoring yourself to her as her fingers tangle in your hair.

Time slows. The sitcom that played throughout the night fades into white noise. All you can feel is her warmth, her touch, and the way she makes you feel like the center of the universe.

When she finally pulls back, her cheeks are flushed, and her grin is sheepish.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” She admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

You laugh softly, your own face warm.

“Me too.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, the tension between you two isn’t uncertainty. It’s the start of something new.

[bluem1lls]

Hi! Could you do a fluff Se-mi one shot? Unfortunately I don’t really have any prompt to give you but I think a out of squid game AU would be pretty cool! Like it could be when they first met, or first date sm like that!

I would really appreciate it if you write it, but if not that’s absolutely fine! I hope you have an amazing day! <3

headcanons gf! se-mi

✦ synopsis: never let your annoying best friends to stop you from finding your girlfriend!

tw: a bit of nsfw

authors note: hiii im sorry for the no update, work is killing me but here's this! i hope u like it💓 tysm for the requests!

-> se-mi, who you've met because of a close friends hangout.

"would it be okay if i bring se-mi?" min su asked as i passed the joint to thanos.

"is she cute?" nam gyu asked.

"she's a lesbian" min-su answered with a chuckle.

"oh?" i said as i pay more attention to the conversation.

"she's probably not your type tho, you're so picky" min su said rolling his eyes as i scoffed.

-> se-mi, who was totally your type.

when you two met, you bonded immediately, laughing and smoking together as the other three were sitting on the couch staring.

"what about us man? when it's our turn?" nam-gyu said, watching as she said something that made you blush.

thanos and min su shook their head as they kept smoking.

"i bet i can drink more than you" she said as you laughed. "wanna bet?" she said with a smirk. "if i win, i get your number"

no need. two shots in and you were giving her your number no matter what.

-> se-mi, who texted you while you were passed out on nam gyu's bed as he was sprawled on the floor with thanos's arm around him.

you tried to find your phone, lowering the brightness as you grabbed it while your head throbbed.

pretty girl w the piercings: hi

pretty girl w the piercings: maybe its too soon but would you like to have dinner tonight? we can do something chill :)

-> se-mi, who has you waking up thanos and nam gyu with screams of happiness.

"who died?!" nam-gyu opened his eyes wide.

"min-su?! my boy?" thanos asks, alarmed

"se-mi texted me! she wants to hang out tonight! it's a date!" i said getting up the bed to quickly shower.

"this can't happen anymore bro. she needs to stop getting drunk and sleeping in your room" thanos says to nam gyu as he throws himself into his bed and covers himself with the blankets.

nam gyu blinks. two people already slept in his bed, none of those being him. he sighs as he goes into thanos's room to sleep some more.

"for fucks sakes" he mumbles.

-> se-mi, who's soon arriving to your house.

"i need you two idiots out of here tonight" you said, putting your earrings on and brushing your hair as they stared.

thanos winked as he grabbed his phone to call someone. "we're on our way" i could hear min-su over the phone screaming to thanos, alarmed, because he was on a family reunion. "we're your family too boy! be there in 20" he said, hanging up.

well. they're min-su's problem now.

-> se-mi, who stood there in all back, as she played with her lip piercing, smirking and looking up and down as you open the door.

"hi!"

"hey pretty" she said, as you moved aside, letting her in.

"we're just leaving" she got in as the guys got out, giving a quick head nod to her.

"get laid" thanos shouted from outside.

"she needs it" nam-gyu followed him.

of course you stood there all blushy as she chuckled.

you'll kill them later.

-> se-mi, who brought everything you told her you liked! a horror movie, your favorite snacks, diet coke and ice cream as dessert.

"it's this is okay? maybe i should've bought more things. now i'm nervous maybe it's time for a smoke break-" she rambles too much. you don't give her time to think as you cup her face and kiss her. her eyes widen in surprise but she quickly melts into it.

-> se-mi, who's quickly stopping the makeout sesh to turn on some 'cigarettes after sex' on the speaker.

-> se-mi, who starts hanging out more with the boys and talks a lot about you.

-like a lot. nam-gyu is tired. he has to see you at home and now hear about you??

-> se-mi, who loves chill dates with you, like staying at home and watching some movie.

-> se-mi, who has to get used to the guys because half of the dates probably include them bc they feel left out:(

its like you two are mothers going out with three kids. three very dumb kids (26 year old adults). but you love them and se-mi learns to love them too .. kind of. give her time.

-> se-mi, who not even two months in she's decoring your room with your favorite flowers and a sign that says 'would you let me be your girlfriend?' you kiss her until your lips go numb.

-> gf!se-mi who doesn't know how to keep her hands out of you. her hands on your hips, hugging you from behind, circles on your waist, underneath your shirt.

-> gf!se-mi who loves playing video games. she's SO happy when she finds out you don't actually like playing but you like watching. she buys all your favorite games and plays them all for you

"BABY, TURN RIGHT. I'VE WATCHED THIS 20 TIMES, GO RIGHT" you shout at her.

"do you wANNA PLAY?" she replies, getting exasperated trying to follow your indications.

you pout as you shook your head.

she loves this. wouldn't trade it for the world.

-> gf!se-mi who loves taking you shopping to the mall. clearly for the lingerie stores. probably ends up fingering you in there.

she buys anything you like, baby is poor but she tries SO hard for her girl:(

you're pointing at a plushie?? it's yours.

clothes u like? she knows your size, it's yours.

-> gf!se-mi who discovered your music tastes are so different that she can't believe she's listening to taylor swift and olivia rodrigo songs to learn them for you. she's incredibly down bad.

-> gf!se-mi who gets you a necklace with her initial

"for: baby

it's not because i own you, but because i really know you :)"

-> gf!se-mi who gets SO nervous when you wanna introduce her to ur parents. and she's so happy when they approved her.

-> gf!se-mi that is SOO smart, everytime she helps u study you're moaning.

-> gf!se-mi that's not studying for now, just working. but you are.

and when she sees you burned out? oh she's the first one to be there helping.

"baby, you've been studying for hours, let's take a break"

"i can't sem. my parents-"

"okay okay, let's go through the flashcards again and we'll take a nap, how does that sound?"

-> gf!se-mi that is there when you get a 87 and not a 100. and you're crying about what your parents are going to say while she caress your hair and kisses you.

"we'll start again in a bit if you want to, but for now let it out princess" she kisses your temple.

-> gf!se-mi who everyone stares when she takes you to campus. but she has no idea, she's just looking at you.

-> gf!se-mi who's a fuckgirl in recovery tho..

like the idea of cheating does not cross her mind. but sometimes she smiles. too much.

and maybe some girl is winking at her because god you have a HOT girlfriend.

and she just turns to you, smirking.

"did u see that babe? i haven't lost my charm ;)" she says as you scoff in disbelief. you two end up making out until her brain is too fuzzy to remember what she told you.

"just wanted her to see that you're mine" you say as you clean up any of your messed up lipstick.

her boxers are wet. sticky and wet.

and if someone you know is frequently flirting with her? next time they'll see her, she has three big bruised spots on her neck, and she's SO happy.

one time she had a little admirer at her job who went to see her like three times a week.

baby: she's here!!!!!!!!!!!

me: who???

me: wait.. stalker??

baby: mhm.

and when you leave her on seen, she frowns. she scans everything this girl is taking as she feels her phone vibrating. she checks her messages and oh! it's you!

two photos. one of you in her favorite red lingerie and the second one, you moving aside those pretty panties to send your bare pussy.

she's drooling. and her brain is pretty much broken.

"i-m-m sorry" she stutters to the girl in front of her, who frowns. "min-su cover for me! i'll stay tomorrow" se-mi screams at him and smiles at the girl who looks like her heart got crushed.

-> gf!se-mi who also gets jealous easily. match made in heaven!

give her two seconds before she's eyeing up and down with a cold stare to anyone who's talking to you. her hands grip your waist as they start to roam over your body, she leaves a wet neck kiss as she gets close to your ear.

"bathroom. right now. or you wanna show them you're only my whore? because i'll fuck you right here and i'll make them watch" she whispers on your ear while you're talking, making you shiver.

yeah forget the chat, it wasn't that interesting anyways.

-> gf!se-mi that spends every sundays with you

lazy days, laying in bed hugging and kissing eachother, picking two books out of your book shelf to read for a while. if it's raining?? movie, take out food and a nap.

she just wants to be with you, does not care about anything else.

-> gf!se-mi that if you're into romantic stuff, she's doing her best for her girl. sometimes she forgets tbh but there it is min-su to remind her!

se-mi: 😭 she's mad at me

min-su: it's flower day. according to tik tok, girl's wanna receive a yellow bouquet

se-mi: you're my second favorite person.

and she's at your door 30 minutes after you got mad with a yellow bouquet, smiling behind it.

she really tries.

-> gf!se-mi who knows how to draw so well, she actually draws a bouquet of ur favorite flowers to give u every month.

-> gf!se-mi who finds tik toks about kitties and sends them to you.

you open tik tok once again as you see a new video sent by your girlfriend. is a black cat licking a white cat with a pink bow

semisucks: das us:)

-> gf!se-mi who loves when you do skincare on her but she already has a pretty spotless face. although she uses hand soup to wash her face

-> gf!se-mi who never stopped flirting with you, she has to keep her girl

" you look so good tonight, you're lucky i have a wife or ill be taking you to bed real fast" she says winking as you roll your eyes.

-> gf!se-mi that after two years of dating, wants to move with you.

"you didnt ask for our consent" thanos says, shooking his head no as you both tell them the news.

"you steal our best friend and now you want her to move? that's not happening" nam gyu agrees with him.

you stare at the three of them who are fighting about you like little kids.

"well, i guess its time to bring the second choice" i say to se-mi as she places her head on the table as she mumbles 'fuck'

"she moves here" i say, staring at those two as they stare at eachother.

"fine. but no moaning" thanos says as nam gyu nods.

-> gf!se-mi who hates her birthday, except this year, when you throw her a mini surprise party with nam-gyu, thanos and min-su.

-> gf!se-mi who can't cook... please don't make her.

-> gf!se-mi who protects you and puts you on top of anything.

you're her girl after all.

nsfw hc!

-> gf!se-mi who has an obsession with your tits, when youre riding her? shes having a blast seeing your tits bounce

-> gf!se-mi who fucks u in public places. 100%

-> gf!se-mi who has a broken brain when she sees you with a new lingerie set.

-> gf!se-mi who has a black strap. and god she knows how to use it

-> gf!se-mi who didn't do it right if you're not crying and trembling by the end of the night.

-> gf!se-mi who loves quickies. everytime you two are about to go out you're suddenly 15 minutes late because you just looked so cute in that oufit, that she had to eat you out.

-> gf!se-mi who quiets her whimpers everytime you're eating her out while she's playing with the guys.

"are you okay? focus dip shit" nam-gyu says to her.

she's on her chair, completely flustered and out of breath, biting her lips while you're swirling around her clit.

"i'm- i'm fine" she sttuters as she quickly mutters the mic, her hand grabs your hair. "right there princess"

-> gf!se-mi who loves to hear you while she fucks you. if you're not screaming she's not happy.

-> gf!se-mi that gets extremely frustrated when you tease her in public.

it's okay, she'll make you her slut when you're back home<3

[allthingsfangirl101]

Friendly Set-Up – Glen Powell

"Plleeeeeaaaassseeee?"

"Pass."

"Pretty please?"

"Nope."

"He's a great kisser!"

"How would you know?"

I smirked as Sarah's mouth opened and closed. "I've. . . heard from his. . . costars."

"All the more reason not to go out with him," I chuckled as I walked past her and into the kitchen.

"But Y/N," she whined as she followed me. "Just a coffee date. That's all I'm asking for. He was talking to me and the other girls about needing a woman in his life."

"Why would he. . . Actually, I don't care." I shook my head as I started making dinner.

"He told us that he missed taking care of a girl," she continued anyway. "He misses spoiling a girl, calling a girl during his lunch break, and picking up dinner on his way home to her."

"That's very sweet," I sighed, "but I'm not ready for another relationship."

"I know that Jason broke your heart," she said, running over to me. "But Glen is the exact opposite of him. He's just what you need! A pallet cleanser!"

"Sarah, stop!" I snapped a little too harshly at her. "I don't want to go on a date with the actor you put makeup on every morning, okay? I just want to be left alone so I can forget about Jason."

I didn't care that the ingredients were all over the counter. I turned and walked away, grabbed my keys, and got in my car. I didn't have to think about where I wanted to go.

I walked into the bar, sat down at my usual spot, and ordered my usual drink. I ran my fingers through my hair and cursed the tears that begged to fall.

Jason and I dated for almost two years. Over the years, he's gotten a lot less romantic. Finally, I made the mistake of making a small comment about marriage and he freaked out. He left and I got a text the next day saying that we should take a break.

As that bartender put my drink in front of me, I thought about how Sarah described Glen. He wanted a girl in his life. He wanted someone he could spoil. I smiled sadly when I realized it had been a long time since I felt like I was being spoiled by someone.

I shook my head, forcing myself to stop thinking about "what if". Jason broke up with me a week and a half ago. I needed more time to get over it.

"Son of a. . ." I grumbled when I saw my friends running into the bar. "Hi, girls."

"Hi, Y/N," Angela said a little too sweetly.

"I don't want to. . ."

"Would you please go out with him?" Sarah cut me off.

"Girls," I sighed.

"Come on, Y/N," she whined. "He's funny. He's attractive. He's successful. He's the total package."

"If he's the total package, why is he still single?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"He's an actor," Angela shrugged.

"And he can get any girl he wants," I sighed, "so why would he want to go out with me?"

"Oh sweetie," Kelly sighed. "You're amazing. We all instantly thought of you when Glen told us about how he wanted a new girl in his life."

"Why wouldn't he like you?" Sarah asked.

"He'd be lucky to have you," Angela added.

"You're too good for him," Maggie chuckled.

"Look," I cut the girls off, "I just broke up with Jason. I need some time before jumping into a new relationship. Thank you for thinking I'm good enough for a famous actor, but I'm gonna pass."

* * * * *

After A LOT of badgering from the girls, I finally agreed to meet Glen. I told them not to get their hopes up. I was only going and having coffee with the guy to get them to stop begging me. After trying not to overthink my sundress, I headed to the coffee shop that was close to my work and the office building where his current movie was filming.

I gave myself a slight pep talk before getting out of my car. I walked into the coffee shop, my nerves jumping all over. As I looked around the shop, I kept wondering why I agreed to meet a complete stranger. Suddenly, my eyes landed on a guy who looked exactly like my friends described. He noticed me and sent me a shy smile. I took a shaky breath before walking over to him.

"Are you Glen?" I asked.

"Yeah," he smiled. "Yeah, I am."

"I'm Y/N, Sarah, Maggie, Angela, and Kelly's friend," I introduced myself. I couldn't help but laugh when I saw him relax. "You don't have to look so relieved."

"Sorry," he chuckled. "Our friends talked you up so much that I wasn't sure if you were real."

"I'm very real," I shrugged with a small giggle. "They probably lied about me though."

"I doubt that," he said, slightly looking me up and down. He looked back up at me and smiled. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

"I'd like that," I smiled.

He turned and gestured toward the counter. When I walked by him, he gently put his hand on my lower back. I tried to force the butterflies in my stomach to go away as we went and ordered our coffee.

"Oh my gosh," the seventeen-year-old barista giggled. "You're. . . You're Glen Powell!" 

Glen looked at me with a blush on his face and cleared his throat. The girl continued to fangirl, "I am such a huge fan. I love you."

"Thank you," he said politely. "That's very sweet of you."

An older man behind the counter cleared his throat, sending his employee a "manager glare".

"Sorry," she cleared her throat. "What can I get you?"

Glen looked at me and gestured for me to order first. I smiled before turning toward the still-excited teenager. "Can I get a caramel latte?"

"Of course," she smiled. Her face turned pink as she turned toward Glen. "And you?"

"Just an iced coffee for me," he nodded. I started to pull out my wallet but he quickly grabbed his wallet and handed his card to the barista. She giggled as she took his card.

She rang us up and handed Glen his card back. "We'll call your name when they're ready," she giggled. I saw the look on his face slightly shift as he looked around the coffee shop.

"Actually," I jumped in, "can you call my name? We're on a first date and don't want to draw too much attention."

"Of course," the girl said, putting her hand to her hard. "That's so sweet. What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"Great. They'll be right out."

I followed Glen to the corner table, out of sight of the windows and front counter. We sat down and there was an instant awkward tension between us.

"This is. . ." He said slowly.

"Awkward," I finished for him.

"Exactly," he chuckled. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I waved off. "Going on a date that your friends bugged you until you said yes to go on is awkward."

"They bugged you?" He asked, his eyes slightly sinking.

"It's nothing against you," I said quickly. "I just. . . I wasn't sure I wanted to get back into dating."

"Back?" Glen asked.

"Coffees for Y/N?" The barista called. Glen looked at me and hesitated before getting up and getting our coffees. I pulled my hands into my lap and nervously played with my fingers.

"Here you go."

"Thank you," I said, my voice soft.

"Y/N," Glen said after a short beat of silence, "what did you mean earlier when you said you weren't sure if you wanted to get back into dating?"

"It's. . . not something I should bring up on our first date," I said.

"If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

I looked up to see Glen smiling gently at me. "I just broke up with my boyfriend," I admitted.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at me sadly.

"Well, technically," I cleared my throat, "he broke up with me. After two years. All because I made a small hypothetical about marriage."

"He what?" Glen asked, slightly surprised. "What an idiot. For what it's worth, you dodged a bullet. He's missing out on an amazing girl."

I smiled weakly at his comment. "You met me like five minutes ago," I chuckled.

"Doesn't matter," he shrugged. "I still think you're amazing."

I looked down at my hands wrapped around my coffee mainly to hide my blush.

"You told me yours," Glen said, making me look up at him. "It's only fair that I tell you my breakup story."

"You don't have to," I stuttered.

"It's only fair," he said with a small smirk. "I was dating an old costar. It got to the point where I was putting in more effort than her. We spent the entire last two months apart. Whenever I called, she didn't answer. And she never called."

"Did you break up with her?" I asked before I could think about it.

"I did," he nodded. He added, "After pictures from her movie leaked of her making out with her costar on the beach."

"I'm sorry," I said. "That's terrible. You didn't deserve her."

"You met me like five minutes ago," he said, instantly going back to his earlier self.

"Doesn't matter," I shrugged with a smile on my face.

For the next two hours, Glen and I sat and talked. We talked about our jobs, our family, our crazy friends. The more we talked, the more I started to fall for this guy. Sarah was right. He was extremely sweet. He maintained eye contact the entire conversation and seemed like he was hanging on my every word.

I was explaining my latest project at work when his phone started ringing. By the sigh that left his lips, I could tell that he had a theory for who was calling him and interrupting our date.

"I'm sorry," Glenn said, his smile sinking when he looked up from his phone. "It's my manager."

"Take it," I said. "I don't mind."

"But Y/N," he stuttered.

"It's okay," I said with a small laugh. "Answer your phone, Glen."

"I'm sorry," he whispered before answering his phone. "Hey, Mike."

I busied myself as he listened to his manager.

"What?" He asked, slightly turning away from me. I looked at my hands wrapped around my coffee. "Wait, right now? Mike, I'm kind of. . . I know that but. . . Fine. I'm on my way."

"You have to go?" I asked, unable to stop my voice from dropping.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N," he said, instantly turning back to me. "I completely forgot I have an interview in two hours."

"I'm going to have to get used to sharing you with the rest of the world, aren't I?" I fake pouted, making him laugh.

"Oh, please," he smirked. "My girl never has to share me."

As we stood up, Glen grabbed my hand and pulled me into his chest. "I really enjoyed getting to know you, Y/N."

"I really enjoyed getting to know you, Glen," I smiled. My breath got caught in my throat when Glen's eyes dropped to my lips. Before I could wonder whether or not he was going to go for it, he went for it.

Glen leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I gently grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer. When we broke the kiss, we both had matching smiles.

"Does this mean you'd accept the offer to a second date if I asked?" His voice soft.

"If you asked."

* * * * *

After our date, each of the girls called and begged me to go to brunch so I could tell them all about it. I fixed my dress as I got out of my car and headed into the restaurant. The second I walked to our table, my friends all jumped up and started bombarding me with questions.

"How was it?"

"Did he buy your coffee?"

"Did he pull out your chair?"

"Did he hold your hand?"

"Did you guys talk for hours?"

"Did he ask you out again?"

"Did he kiss you?"

"Why aren't you answering our questions?"

"Because neither one of you has stopped to breathe," I chuckled.

"Okay," Sarah said in her bossy tone. "Enough questions. Just tell us how it went."

"It was fine," I shrugged.

"Fine?!" They all screamed in sync.

"Just fine?"

"Come on."

"You gotta give us more than that."

"Sorry," I said, standing up, catching all of them off-guard.

"Where are you going?" Sarah pouted.

"Hey, gorgeous."

The girls gasped as Glen walked up, wrapped his arm around my waist, and kissed my cheek. "You ready for lunch?"

"Absolutely," I smiled at him. I looked back at my friends and saw all of them smiling like crazy people.

"You girls don't mind me stealing Y/N away from you, do you?" Glen asked the girls.

"Of course not!" Sarah said loudly. "Take her for the rest of the day."

"Subtle," I scoffed as I rolled my eyes. Glen just laughed as he led us out of the restaurant. When we got to his car, he stopped and pulled me into his chest.

"You know," he whispered, "when I first told the girls I wanted a new girl in my life, I never thought I'd actually meet a girl I could see spending the rest of my life with."

"The rest of your. . ."

"I know this is crazy fast," he said quickly, "especially since we've only been on one date. . ."

"We texted until like 2 am," I said quickly trying to reassure him.

"True," he smiled. "As I was saying, I really like you, Y/N. And I think that we have something here."

"I think so, too," I whispered. With a smile on his face, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck as our lips moved in sync.

We didn't care that our friends were watching us from the restaurant window with proud smirks on their faces. Glen broke the kiss but didn't let me go.

"Y/N," he whispered. "I know you're still getting over Jason. But I'd like to help you with that."

"I don't want to use you."

"You wouldn't be using me," he said, shaking his head. "I'd just be helping you through the breakup."

I bit my lip, debating if I really wanted to go for it. "Fine," I gave in. I quickly added, "But only if you allow me to help you through your breakup."

"It's a deal."

[gf2bellamy]

enough ( part two ) — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: it's been a week since your conversation with spencer content warnings: mention of insecurites , very emotional , a/n: a lot of people asked for a pt2 so here it is :) hope you guys enjoy this <33

part 1

A week had passed. Seven long days. It could have been a peaceful week—a rare break from the chaos of working in the BAU.

No cases, no unsubs, just quiet.

But instead of enjoying it, you found yourself curled up on your couch, staring blankly into the void of your living room. 

The words Spencer had spoken haunted you. “I’m in love with you.” They played on an endless loop in your mind, each repetition like a dagger twisting deeper into your chest.

How many times had you cried in the past few days? You’d lost count somewhere around five, but it hardly mattered.

The tears came in waves—sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes while staring at a book you weren’t reading, and sometimes when you least expected them, triggered by the smallest of things. 

You hated yourself for how you’d handled it. For how you’d shut him down, pushed him away. For the look on his face when he left your room that night. 

And then there was the dread. The gnawing, suffocating dread of what came next. Because at some point, your phone would buzz.

At some point, someone from the team would call or text, and you’d have to go back to work.

You’d have to see Spencer again. 

The thought of being in the same room as him made you feel like you were unraveling. Would he act like nothing had happened? Would he be distant? Could you even bear to meet his eyes? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your palms to your temples as if you could physically push the thoughts away.

It didn’t work.

The memory of his voice, his expression, the sheer vulnerability in his confession—it all came rushing back, sharp and vivid. 

And then there was your own voice, trembling as you’d told him you weren’t enough. That you’d ruin him. That he deserved better.

That was the worst part. You wanted to believe him.

But the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your resolve. You couldn’t stop questioning yourself, your worth, your ability to give him what he deserved. 

You let out a shaky breath, your hands dropping to your lap as you stared blankly at the coffee table. A half-empty mug of tea sat there, long since cold. Your phone lay beside it, the screen dark and mercifully silent. 

For now.  

Two days later, the thing you’d been dreading finally happened. 

Your phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the quiet of your room. You groaned, rolling onto your side and blindly reaching for the device on your nightstand. Your fingers fumbled for a moment before you grabbed it and pressed it to your ear. 

“Hey, we’ve got a case,” Derek’s voice came through. 

Your stomach dropped. 

“I’ll be right there,” you mumbled, your voice groggy. 

As soon as the call ended, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment, gripping the phone tightly.

Your heart was racing, the feeling of panic building in your chest. 

You stood, your legs feeling heavier than usual as you made your way to the closet. Pulling on your clothes, you tried to focus on the motions—zipping up your jacket, tying your shoes—but your mind kept drifting. To Spencer.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you brushed your hair back and grabbed your bag. 

Get it together, you told yourself, but the words felt hollow. 

The drive to the office was a blur. You barely registered the streets you passed, the familiar route offering no comfort as your thoughts swirled endlessly.

By the time you pulled into the parking lot, your hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles had turned white. 

Once parked, you killed the engine and sat there, the silence pressing in around you. Your fingers started tapping on the wheel—a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to shake. 

Focus. You’ve done this a hundred times before. Just... put your personal stuff aside. You have a job to do. 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to calm the racing of your heart.

The memory of his voice, his confession, his heartbreak—it all came rushing back, and your stomach twisted painfully. 

Stop it. You shook your head sharply, trying to push it all away. There was no room for this now. 

You grabbed your bag, stepping out of the car and shutting the door with more force than necessary. The crisp morning air bit at your skin, grounding you slightly as you made your way toward the building. 

Each step felt heavier than the last, but by the time you reached the elevator, you forced yourself to stand a little straighter. The doors opened, and you stepped inside, pressing the button for the floor where your team worked. 

As the elevator doors slid open, you took a deep, steadying breath.You stepped into the bullpen, your shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor as you made your way to your desk. 

Setting your bag down, you instinctively glanced at Spencer’s desk just across from yours. His bag was already there, a clear sign he’d arrived earlier than you—no surprise there. But seeing it sent a fresh wave of panic rolling through your chest. 

You headed straight for the conference room. The case briefing would be starting soon and you did not want to get in trouble with Hotch for being late. 

You pushed the door open slowly, almost hesitantly, and peeked inside. A relieved breath escaped you when you saw only Penelope sitting there, her bright, cheerful presence immediately calming you. 

“Morning, Pen,” you greeted, stepping inside and letting the door close behind you. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” she chirped, looking up from her laptop with a warm smile. Her outfit, as always, was a kaleidoscope of color and patterns, and just seeing her made the room feel a little less heavy. “How are you this fine morning?” 

You hesitated, forcing a smile onto your face as you slid into a seat across from her. “I’m... here.” 

Penelope raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your vague answer. “Uh-huh. And how’s the rest of you?” 

You blinked, caught off guard by how quickly she’d zeroed in on your mood. “I’m fine, really. Just tired,” you lied, avoiding her gaze. 

Penelope didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press—at least, not yet. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, watching you with a knowing expression that made you squirm. 

“Alright,” she said finally, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “I’ll let you off the hook for now. But you and I both know that when you say ‘fine,’ you mean the opposite. And as your friendly neighborhood tech queen, it is my duty to investigate further.” 

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Noted.” 

The door opened again, and you tensed instinctively, glancing over to the door. But it wasn’t Spencer—it was Hotch, followed closely by Derek and Emily. 

You relaxed slightly, turning your attention to the case file Penelope slid across the table. But even as you flipped it open and started scanning the details, a small part of you couldn’t stop bracing for the inevitable moment Spencer would walk through that door. 

Two minutes later, the door opened again. 

Spencer stepped inside, clutching his bag and muttering a quick, “Sorry I’m late.” His voice was soft, almost hoarse, and he moved quickly to take a seat at the table without making eye contact with anyone. 

Penelope paused for just a beat, her eyes flicking toward him in concern, but she quickly resumed her explanation, her usual enthusiasm a little more subdued. 

You kept your gaze glued to the file in front of you, but it was no use. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you were sure everyone could hear it. 

Don’t look at him, you told yourself. But the pull was too strong. Slowly, cautiously, you let your eyes drift up, stealing a glance at him across the table. 

And that’s when you saw it. 

Miserable. That was the only word for it. 

He didn’t look like himself. His usually bright, curious eyes were dulled with exhaustion, framed by dark circles that told you he hadn’t been sleeping well—if at all. His hair was a little messier than usual, strands falling into his face as he bent over his files

Your chest tightened painfully. 

This was your fault. 

You tore your gaze away, looking back down at your file even though the words blurred together. Guilt churned in your stomach.

You’d been so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you hadn’t stopped to think about what all of this was doing to him. 

Penelope’s voice carried on in the background, but it sounded distant, like you were underwater.

You heard snippets—details about the unsub, the profile they were building—but none of it stuck. Your mind was too busy spiraling. 

You glanced at him again, unable to help yourself. You watched him go through each page of the file. For a moment, his hand stilled, and he glanced up—just for a second. 

Your eyes met, and your breath caught in your throat. 

It was quick, barely more than a flicker of a moment, but it was enough. You saw the hurt there, before he quickly looked away.

Your fingers tightened around the edges of your file, the paper crinkling slightly under your grip. 

You knew deep down that if you’d just told Spencer you didn’t feel the same way, he wouldn’t be acting like this. He’d be hurt, yes, but he’d move on. He was kind, understanding—he’d respect your boundaries. 

But that wasn’t the truth. 

The truth was you did feel the same way. And because of your own fears, because of the deep-rooted insecurities that whispered you’re not good enough for him, you were both caught in this endless cycle of hurt.

You barely registered Hotch’s words as everyone started shuffling out of the room. Spencer didn’t waste a second—he was the first to leave, his long strides taking him out the door without so much as a glance in your direction. 

You sat there for a moment, staring down at your files, as the sound of footsteps and conversations faded into the background. The knot in your stomach tightened. 

Standing up, you gathered your things, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand.

You stood up slowly, clutching the file to your chest like a shield. You had just taken a step toward the door when Derek’s voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“Hey, hold up,” he said, leaning casually against the edge of the table.

You turned to face him, doing your best to keep your expression neutral. “What’s up?” 

Derek tilted his head slightly, studying you with those sharp profiler eyes that missed nothing. “You tell me. Something’s been off with you lately.” 

You blinked, caught off guard. “Off? I’m fine, Derek.” 

“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms, giving you a pointed look. “Fine doesn’t look like you zoning out every five minutes. Or avoiding certain people.” 

You froze, your grip tightening on the file in your hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Come on.” Derek said, his voice softening slightly. “We’re all profilers here. You think we haven’t noticed what’s going on between you and Reid?” 

Your heart dropped. 

“There’s nothing going on,” you said quickly, too quickly. “We’re just—” 

“Don’t even try that,” Derek interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. And I’ve definitely seen the way you're avoiding each other.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. Because he was right. 

Derek sighed, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “Look, I’m not trying to get in your business. But whatever’s going on, it’s messing with both of you. And that’s not good—for the team or for you two.” 

You looked away, your chest tightening. 

“I don’t want to hurt him.” You said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “

“And what do you think you’re doing now?” Derek shot back, his tone gentle but firm. “You think this is easier on him? On you?” 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. 

Derek sighed again, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Just... think about it, alright? Talk to him. You two are better than this.” 

With that, he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before walking away, leaving you standing there with your thoughts swirling. 

You stared down at the file in your hands, Derek’s words echoing in your mind. 

What do you think you’re doing now? 

Half an hour later, you were sitting in your seat on the jet, staring blankly out the window as the rest of the team filed in. You had deliberately chosen a seat as far away from Spencer as possible, and you weren’t surprised to see he’d done the same.

The jet lifted off, the familiar hum of the engines filling the cabin as everyone settled into their roles. You opened the case file on your lap, pretending to read, though none of the words seemed to stick in your mind. 

“Alright,” Hotch’s voice broke through the silence, snapping you back to reality. “Here’s the plan. Rossi and Emily, I want you to head to the crime scene and coordinate with the local police. Derek, you’re with me—we’ll talk to the victim’s family and follow up on their statements. And you two—” he glanced between you and Spencer—“work on the geographical profile. I want a better idea of where the unsub might be operating.” 

Your breath hitched. You felt Spencer stiffen from across the cabin, but neither of you said a word. 

“Understood,” you managed to say, your voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling inside you. 

Spencer gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. 

Once you landed, the others dispersed to their respective tasks, leaving just you and Spencer in the small conference room.

You both moved around the table quietly, spreading out the maps and working in parallel, careful not to cross paths. The markers in your hands squeaked softly as you outlined possible areas of interest. 

“Do you think this area here could be significant?” you finally asked, breaking the silence and pointing to a spot on your map. 

Spencer looked up briefly, his gaze flicking to where you were pointing. “It’s possible,” he said curtly. “It’s close to the highway, so it would make for an easy escape route.” 

“Right,” you said, nodding. You added a note to the side of the map, trying not to focus on how detached he sounded. 

The silence stretched on again, but it wasn’t the comfortable kind you used to share with Spencer.

This was heavy, awkward, and filled with all the words you weren’t saying. 

By the time the rest of the team returned, you were so mentally drained that hearing Hotch announce you’d pick things up in the morning was a relief. 

You didn’t waste any time. The moment you were dismissed, you grabbed your things and headed straight to the hotel.

Your body felt heavy, not just from the day’s work but from the emotional weight of the tension with Spencer. 

When you finally made it to your room, you let the door close behind you with a soft click and dropped your bag onto the floor.

You collapsed onto the bed, letting the plush mattress engulf you as you closed your eyes. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to exhale, to let the day melt away, but it didn’t take long for the familiar ache in your chest to return. 

You could still see his face in your mind—the way he’d looked at you, the hurt in his eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, willing the image away, but it was no use. 

Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t you just let yourself be happy, let yourself take the leap? 

You groaned softly, burying your face in the pillow. It was no use. No matter how much you tried to push him out of your mind, Spencer was always there. 

Shaking your head, you sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, trying to force yourself to snap out of it. You reached for your bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a big hoodie and a pair of oversized sweatpants.

They were your comfort clothes, and right now, you needed all the comfort you could get. 

Once changed, you padded into the bathroom to brush your teeth. The fluorescent light buzzed softly above you, and as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, you froze. 

It had been a long time since you’d really looked at yourself, and the sight before you was startling. Dark circles framed your tired eyes, and your face looked drawn, as though the life had been slowly drained out of you. 

You looked miserable. 

As miserable as Spencer did. 

You gripped the edge of the sink, your toothbrush dangling limply from your other hand. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

The hurt you saw in his eyes earlier today wasn’t just his—it was yours too.

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly.

You set the toothbrush down and splashed cold water on your face.

You leaned against the sink, water dripping from your chin, and stared into your own eyes.

How had it come to this? You’d faced down killers, survived unimaginable danger, and yet here you were, completely unraveled by the thought of loving—and being loved by—Spencer Reid. 

You thought back to the conversation you’d had with Derek, his words echoing in your mind. He wasn’t wrong.

You were hurting Spencer. And in doing so, you were hurting yourself. 

But what could you do now? How could you undo the damage you’d caused when you weren’t sure you could even face him again? 

While you sat in your hotel room, wrestling with your thoughts, Spencer sat in his, just a few doors down. 

He couldn’t shake the image of you today—how your eyes had darted to his when you thought no one was looking, how you’d quickly looked away the moment he caught you.

It wasn’t just the silence between you that hurt; it was the loss of the friendship. 

His heart ached. He missed you so much it felt like a physical pain, a hollow ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away. 

Spencer leaned back against the headboard, his hands resting limply on his lap as he stared at the ceiling. He’d replayed the argument between you two a hundred times in his mind.

At this point, he wasn’t even sure if confronting you about his feelings had been the right decision.

Part of him wished he could go back to the time when he wasn’t certain if you liked him back.

At least then, he could cling to hope, to possibility. 

But now? Now he knew the truth—that you loved him too—and yet it felt worse. Because while his confession had brought a fleeting moment of joy, it had been snatched away by the words that followed. 

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut at the memory, his chest tightening. It hurt him that you thought of yourself that way. That you couldn’t see what he saw in you. 

To him, you were everything. Kind, intelligent, brave—more than enough. And it pained him to know that you didn’t believe that.

That you thought you weren’t good enough for him, as if he were some perfect, untouchable figure who couldn’t see his own flaws. 

He sighed, rubbing his temples as he tried to clear his mind. But no matter how hard he tried, your face kept appearing, your words replaying in his head like a broken record. 

A knock on his door startled him, and he quickly sat up, hoping it was news about the case. But when he opened the door, what he saw left him momentarily frozen. 

You. 

You stood there in your oversized hoodie and baggy pants, your hair slightly disheveled and your eyes red from what was likely hours of crying.

The sight of you, so vulnerable, made his heart twist painfully in his chest. 

Without a word, Spencer stepped aside, opening the door wider to let you in. You hesitated for a moment before walking past him, your steps slow and uncertain as you stopped near the edge of his bed. 

He closed the door softly, turning to face you.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“Hi,” he replied, tilting his head slightly as he studied your face. His tone was gentle, but there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. 

You fidgeted with the hem of your hoodie, your gaze darting around the room before finally settling on him. “I’m sorry for... just showing up like this. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize.” 

Another beat of silence passed. He could see you struggling to find the words, your brows furrowing as you looked down at your hands. 

You stammered, your words tripping over each other as you struggled to meet his eyes. “I... uhm,” you began, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the intensity of his gaze made it nearly impossible. 

His heart ached as he took in the sight of you—disheveled, vulnerable, and clearly torn apart.

“Spence,” you finally said, your voice trembling as you clutched the hem of your hoodie to ground yourself. Hearing his nickname from your lips again made his heart skip, though it was bittersweet.

He missed it, missed you. 

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, the words tumbling from you as if they’d been trapped for days. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like this, and I—” Your voice cracked as you rambled, your breathing uneven. “That’s exactly what I was trying to avoid—” You broke off, tears slipping down your cheeks as you looked anywhere but at him, avoiding the weight of his gaze. 

Spencer’s chest tightened at your words, the pain and guilt evident in your voice cutting through him.

He stepped closer, his movements slow, cautious, as if afraid you might bolt. “Stop,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. 

You shook your head, the tears falling faster now. “I was trying to protect you,” you whispered, your voice breaking again. “From me. From all of this. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I’ve done exactly that. I have ruined everything” 

His brows furrowed deeply, and he took another step closer, the distance between you shrinking. “You haven’t ruined anything,” he said, his voice gentle but resolute. 

You finally met his eyes, your own filled with guilt and anguish. “How can you say that?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Look at us. Look at what I’ve done. I’ve hurt you, Spencer, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.” 

Tears continued to spill down your cheeks no matter how much you tried to wipe them away. Your hands trembled as you fumbled to control your emotions, but it was useless. 

“Stop,” Spencer said gently, his voice soothing yet firm. He stepped closer, the hesitancy in his movements showing how carefully he was treading around your fragile state. He stopped just inches away, searching your face for permission before he reached out. 

His fingers brushed against your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was soft, careful.

Then, with both hands, he cupped your face and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. His touch was warm, making it impossible to focus on anything but him. 

Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes, meeting his. His gaze was soft, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

You could see the concern there, the care, the love he had for you. It made the guilt in you swell. 

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered again, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. 

His hands stayed on your face, steady and unmoving, as though he were anchoring you. “You don’t have to keep apologizing,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yes, I do,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “I hurt you, Spencer. I pushed you away. I—” 

“Stop blaming yourself,” he interrupted, his voice breaking slightly, though his tone remained gentle. “Please, stop. I know you’re scared. I know you think you’re not good enough, but... do you realize how incredible you are? How much I—” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment as he steadied himself. “How much I love you?” 

Your lip quivered, fresh tears threatening to spill as his words washed over you. You wanted to believe him.

You wanted to let yourself believe.But your doubts lingered, the years of insecurities weighing you down like an anchor. 

“I don’t want to ruin you,” you whispered, your voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the sound of your shaky breaths. “You deserve someone who can give you everything, someone who—” 

“Stop,” he said once again, his voice more insistent now. His thumbs brushed your cheeks again, wiping away another round of tears. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to tell me who I should love or what I deserve.” 

You blinked at him, staring into his hazel eyes. 

“I don’t want someone else,” he continued, his tone softening but his resolve unwavering. “I don’t care about perfect, and I don’t care about whatever you think you’re lacking. I want you. With all your flaws, all your fears, all your messiness. I want you. And the only thing that’s ruining me right now is the idea that you don’t believe me.” 

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you like a wave. He looked at you with such sincerity, such unshakable devotion, that it left you speechless. 

What could you possibly say to that? To the sweetest, most genuine man alive, standing in front of you, telling you he loved you and no one else? You felt the words lodged in your throat, tangled with fear and disbelief.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions swirling inside you. 

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I... I don’t know how to do this.” 

He didn’t move, didn’t take his hands from your face and you felt the way his thumbs gently brushed against your skin. 

“You don’t have to know,” he said softly. “We don’t have to have it all figured out. I just need you to let me in. To trust me.” 

His words were a plea, gentle but so full of emotion that it made your chest ache. You opened your eyes and looked at him, his face inches from yours, his expression filled with a vulnerability that matched your own. 

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I’m scared I’ll mess this up, Spencer. Scared I’ll hurt you again..” 

“You won’t,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the crack of emotion in it. “You can’t. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me? I’m standing here telling you that I love you, that I want you, and nothing you say or do is going to change that. Not your fears, not your doubts, nothing.” 

You shook your head slightly, tears brimming in your eyes again. “But you deserve so much better—someone who isn’t this... this mess. Someone who can—” 

“Stop,” he interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. “Stop deciding what I deserve. Stop convincing yourself that you’re not enough. Because you are. You always have been.” 

His words broke something inside you, the walls you’d built around your heart crumbling under the weight of his love. A sob escaped your lips, and you brought your hands up to cover your face, trying to hold yourself together, but Spencer wouldn’t let you retreat. 

He gently took your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as he stepped even closer. “Look at me,” he whispered. 

You did, reluctantly, your tear-streaked face meeting his unwavering gaze. 

“I love you,” he said again, his voice softer now, but no less certain. “and I love all of you.” 

You stared at him, your heart pounding, his words sinking in deeper than you thought possible. 

For a moment, the air between you was heavy with emotion, neither of you speaking as you stood there, so close yet so unsure of what would happen next.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, you stepped forward, your arms wrapping around him as you buried your face in his chest. 

His arms came around you immediately, holding you tight, as though he was afraid you’d slip away.

You could feel his heart beating against yours, steady and sure, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

Unbeknownst to them, the rumor of them looking for Tim and speculation on why exactly they're doing so after so much time has passed spreads quickly through the league and the younger heroes. While each of those teams are known to work with the Bats and they usually have one as a team mate, they're not blind and they have seen the way things went down after Batman came back from the time stream. Some (Superman, Wally, Jon, maybe?) want to believe they finally realized how important Tim is to their family and want to reconnect.

Most of the others are skeptic and have (correctly) assumed they need Tim for something and are intending to pull him back into their parasitic (?) dynamic where Tim gives and gives and they take without giving anything back. Tim is finally moving on. Happy. They're not about to compromise that for the sake of the bats. Not after he put them before his own life and well being for years and years without them truly realizing.

It takes a week for them to hear back from Tim. However, when they finally get the call from a blocked number it isn't Tim on the other side.

"Tim? We were worried about you? Where have you been?" Dick answers but puts the phone on speaker, Bruce, Damian and Alfred present in the room.

"and why exactly are you trying to contact Tim right now?" Ma Kent's voice is colder than they've ever heard before. "Tim changed his number months ago. What exactly are you worried about?"

"Um... We..." Dick starts, sheepish and not sure how to continue without looking like a jerk.

"Where is Tim? Why isn't he calling us?" Bruce interrupts with his usual tact. Ma isn't having it.

"That's not how this works. Either answer my question or I'll hang up and make sure no one else gives you Tim's information. You might be detectives but even you won't be able to pass through all the layers of security that boy and his friends have put up as a precaution."

"He... Gave Bruce some advice that helped get the family back together we were hoping that he could..." Dick started.

"Go back to fixing your messes without ever getting anything in return? Talk Bruce out of his bullshit like he's the child instead of a full grown adult?" They stay silent, knowing Ma has a point. "That's what I thought. You know, anyone else in your situation would look for a therapist instead of relying on an emotional support child to get you through life. You didn't even notice when he left, did you?"

"I..." Dick is not sure how to finish his sentence. Damian looks bored and like he'd rather be anywhere else. Alfred has a deep frown on his face but it doesn't seem to be directed at anyone in particular. Bruce... Bruce has completely shut down. His face is pale, stuck in a neutral expression while his eyes are glassy and focused on a random point in the wall.

"Like I said. You're not getting close to that boy if you're just going to keep using him. He got out. Respect that. If you don't, I'll make sure someone keeps you in check. He has a lot of people at his back and even more who owe him favors. You don't want to try me." With that, Martha Kent hangs up the phone.

Bruce comes back from the dead and wants to make things better. Bruce comes back from the dead and Tim was the one who brought him back, so it's obviously Tim who'll know best how to help him reconnect with everyone.

It's Tim who should give him advice on how to bond with Dick. Dick has always been his idol, after all. Tim would know best how to bring him back, and he does. He gives good advice and the two of them begin to get closer.

So Bruce asks about Jason, too. Asks about how to bring his son back into the fold and Tim wished for a brief and brutal moment that it weren't so obvious who the favorite was.

Tim told Bruce to give Jason his space, to loosen his rules, and make it clear that no matter what the Red Hood did, no matter what the Batman believed in, Jason was always welcome. Bruce would always want him.

It worked. Bruce wasn't surprised. Tim was a special sort of bitter.

Bruce asked again for Damian and Tim had to push down his anger. "That boy tried to kill me," Tim wanted to say. "I hate him and I want you to hate him too so that I can remember a time when we had something in common," Tim didn't say, but he got close.

He instead told Bruce how Damian liked art and animals and loved hearing stories of the wonders of Batman.

He told Bruce just how much Damian loved being Robin. Told Bruce to tell Damian what a good Robin he was.

God bless or maybe damn him, but he did and it worked and Tim wanted to start screaming and clawing at something because that would have never worked if Tim tried it and it wouldn't have stopped Damian from cutting his line--something Bruce did not and would never know about.

Bruce asked about Babs. How should he make sure she knew that she was a part of the family? They they loved her and not just for the work she did?

He asked about Steph. How should he make sure she knew that she was more important than his rules and that, if something else should go wrong, she didn't need to run away?

He asked about Duke. He never got the chance to get to know him before leaving--not as well as he wanted to, at least. How should he let him know that he was just as much a son as everyone else? That, whether or not his parents woke up, he'd always be welcome?

He asked about Cass. How should he show her that he loves her even though he has nothing to teach her? How can he convey how much he cares about her, his first daughter?

Bruce gets brought back from time and he makes things better. He brings his family back together by following Tim's advice.

And Tim?

Tim brings his dad back from the dead and Bruce changes, becomes a better father.

Bruce changes, but not everything can.

That, Tim thinks, is why Bruce never calls Tim his son.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (12 - Red)

Chapter Summary: Unable to accept that she is now part of the team, you try to avoid Wanda Maximoff at all cost.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 4k+ | Chapter Tags: Age of Ultron!Wanda, Enemies to Lovers (sort of)

A/N: I got some interesting asks about Y/N's background. There are backstories about Y/N that will come up since Part 2 is purely a flashback. However, things such as how she became an Avenger is not covered, but you're welcome to ask me for headcanons (or give your own!). P.S. Someone asked how old Y/N is in the flashbacks, and she's actually younger than Wanda P.P.S get ready for some action too! it's my first time writing such a scene *_*// More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pretending Wanda Maximoff didn’t exist was easier than you initially thought.

You got good at avoiding her. It became part of your routine—timing your movements through the compound to miss her by minutes, memorizing her schedule so you could always be somewhere else. Sometimes you’d see a hint of her around a corner, a flash of the crimson jacket she usually wore or the dark fall of her hair, but you'd steer in the opposite direction without a second thought.

She seemed to reciprocate—or maybe she simply picked up on the hint. Either way, you both managed to coexist without the need to acknowledge the other. You, a lifelong night owl, suddenly found yourself becoming a morning person the moment you realized Wanda preferred the training room in the evenings. Working out before dawn felt like the safest plan. You told yourself it was working.

Meals, however, were trickier. The kitchen and dining area were unavoidable shared spaces, and schedules didn’t always align as neatly as you’d hoped. Some mornings, you’d find her already there, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, or she’d walk in just as you were finishing up. 

The team had a tradition—dinners together, a semblance of family in a life that lacked roots. You started to skip these, opting for protein bars or quick microwaves alone. It was easier than facing her across the table, being reminded of what she forced you to see back in Johannesburg. 

But then you noticed Wanda stopped showing up, too. On the nights you did show up, her seat was empty. The others didn’t seem bothered, but you couldn’t shake the feeling it was your fault. 

Despite having won the territory, you couldn’t shake the guilt that came with it.

—

Steve and Tony were at each other’s throats again.

Their arguments had become more frequent in recent weeks, and although you usually stayed out of it, they were beginning to take its toll on the team. You could tell lines were being drawn; team members quietly taking sides, aligning themselves according to whoever had a mission lined up. 

You walked into the meeting room, late as usual, pretending you hadn't heard them from halfway across the building. Steve stood rigid, arms crossed over his chest, jaw set like granite. Tony reclined with that maddeningly casual air that mostly irked Steve, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other animatedly waved as he spoke. 

Wanda was tucked away in the corner farthest from the door, partially shielded by Vision. Trying to avoid Wanda only made you seek her out involuntarily, as much as you wished not to.

“I'm telling you, Tony, allowing the government to dictate our actions undermines everything we stand for,” Steve said.

Oh. This again? The politics of it all was your least favorite thing about being an Avenger.

“Accountability,” Tony replied. “We can't keep making unilateral decisions without considering the global implications.”

Steve shook his head. “We've operated just fine without bureaucratic red tape slowing us down. Every second counts when lives are at stake.”

Tony snorted in a way that’s supposed to rile up Steve even more. “Operating 'just fine'? You call the messes we've left behind 'just fine'?”

You cleared your throat. “Sounds like a party in here.”

Neither of them acknowledged you. Your gaze unintentionally drifted toward Wanda, and you caught her eyes just as she quickly looked away.

“Since when did you become a fan of bureaucracy?” Steve asked.

“Since the paperwork started piling up from our little international incidents,” Tony said, pouring himself another shot of whiskey. 

You grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, leaning against the counter as their words volleyed back and forth. 

“Paperwork? Is that what this is about? You’re tired of paperwork?”

“I’m tired of taking the blame for all of us,” Tony said. 

“Well, you did create Ultron, didn’t you?”

Tony's eyes narrowed. If he weren't clad in his robe, he'd be suiting up right now. “Low blow, Rogers.”

“Truth hurts,” Steve replied.

You took a bite of your apple. “You two need a time-out or something?”

Tony turned to you, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “Ah, look who finally joined us. Got anything to say?”

“Nope,” you replied, chewing deliberately. “But could you tone it down? Your arguing is scaring the children.”

“You are the ‘children’,” Clint said with a smirk and you gave him a dirty look. 

Natasha hid a smile behind her glass. 

“I meant Vision,” you said, pointedly not looking at the synthezoid lest your gaze accidentally land on Wanda again.

Steve exhaled sharply. “This isn't a joke.”

Natasha set her glass down carefully. “Does this really need to be settled now?” she asked, her tone of voice indicating she’s taking charge now. “We gathered the team for a briefing, remember?”

“You're right,” Steve conceded. “We can discuss this later.”

Tony shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Clint leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “So, what's on the agenda?”

Vision, to your surprise, got up from his seat. You recalled that before becoming whatever he was now, he had been Stark's AI, which gave him direct access to global networks. He would be among the first to hear any distress calls.

“We've received intelligence about a potential threat escalating in Southeastern Europe,” Vision said.

You took another bite of your apple, listening but keeping your expression neutral.

Steve picked up a remote and clicked it, causing a holographic map to appear in the center of the room. Red markers dotted a specific region. “A rogue faction has been intercepting shipments of advanced weaponry.”

Tony arched an eyebrow. “Let me guess—Stark tech?”

“Sort of,” Steve allowed. “But they're not just shopping for tech. They're also headhunting for the enhanced.”

At that, Wanda shifted slightly in her seat at the back, her attention fixed intently on the map. You noticed but quickly averted your eyes, focusing instead on the holographic display.

“Any idea who’s leading this faction?” Natasha asked.

“Not yet,” Steve said. “But Intel suggests they're planning something big, and soon.”

“So what’s the plan?” you tossed out.

Steve's eyes swept the room. “We intercept them before they can mobilize. It’s in the rural mountains of Cilo,” he pointed to a spot on the map of Turkey. “Barely any civilians, but we still play it clean—minimal casualties.”

“I'll prep the suits and run some satellite sweeps. Maybe we can get a clearer picture of their operations,” Tony declared, and without waiting for a dismissal, he headed for the door. Steve watched him leave, shaking his head with a mix of irritation and resignation.

“Roles, then,” Steve started, raising his voice just enough to reach the corners of the room—a small gathering today; Rhodes was with the U.S. president on a diplomatic trip in Asia, and Sam was aiding Sokovian refugees settling into their new homes.

“Natasha and Clint, you'll handle reconnaissance. Vision, you will join Tony for air support. I'll lead the ground team.”

“Who’s on the ground team?” you asked.

Steve held your look. “You, me, and Wanda.”

The pit of your stomach clenched. “Fantastic,” you muttered.

“Problem?” Steve challenged.

You quickly schooled your expression. “Nope.”

“Good,” he said firmly. “We roll out at dawn. Meeting’s over.”

As you headed toward the door, Natasha fell into step beside you. “You okay with this?” she asked quietly.

“Why wouldn't I be?” you replied, not meeting her eyes.

She gave you a knowing look. “I know what you’ve been doing. Pretending Wanda doesn't exist isn't going to work on a mission.”

You sighed. “I'll be professional.”

“See that you are,” she said. “For everyone's sake.”

—

The mission was set for the next day, and you were mentally running through strategies, trying to anticipate every possible outcome. What you hadn't expected was a knock on your door late in the evening, well after Steve's usual bedtime of 9 PM. 

Normally, you'd peer through the peephole to check who it was, but your mind was elsewhere—fixated on a particular restaurant in Istanbul you hoped to visit if there was any downtime after the raid. You'd never confess this to anyone, but you were a bit of a foodie. Sampling the best cuisine in each country your Avenger duties took you to had become a personal quest. 

Without thinking, you stood and walked over, opening the door to find Wanda standing there, her hands nervously clasped in front of her. You looked down at your feet, waiting. 

“I need your help,” she said. These were the first words she had ever spoken to you, and you didn’t know why you'd taken note of it.

You didn't glance up. “Don't recall offering it.”

She slipped inside without asking, the soft soles of her boots silent on the floor—a detail that annoyed you. “Steve said he wants minimal casualties, and my powers aren't exactly…gentle. I need to learn how to fight without relying on it too much.”

“So go ask someone else.”

“There's no one else available right now,” she murmured. “Natasha is out, and Steve thought it would be good if we—”

You cut her off, finally raising your head to look at her. “I'm not interested.”

Wanda scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t be coming to you if there’s—”

“Then maybe Vision can help you,” you suggested coldly. “He seems to have taken a liking to you. I'm sure he can dig up some martial arts videos for you.”

She bristled. “Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like being civil is something that could actually make you sick.”

You met her gaze, unflinching. “I don't have time for this.”

Wanda inhaled sharply, and a strange energy coursed through your veins, the furniture in your bedroom shuddering as though caught in a miniature earthquake. But you held your position, unafraid.

“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have to report back to Steve,” she warned. 

The threat was so feeble it almost made you laugh.  But you aimed to be more cruel than that.

“Go ahead,” you replied coolly. “Tell him I won't hold your hand.”

Wanda looked on the verge of an outburst. Good.

“Why are you being so difficult?”

You crossed your arms. “Why are you still standing at my door?”

Without another word, she closed her eyes briefly. Suddenly, you felt a subtle push against your thoughts—a whisper not your own. “Why do you hate me so much? We have to work together—”

You recoiled, anger flaring. “Get out of my head.”

“I was just trying to—”

“I don't care what you were trying to do,” you spat, getting in her face. “Don't ever do that again.”

She reeled back slightly. If it weren’t for the fact that she was a hundred times more powerful than you, you might have thought she was intimidated. But as you drew near, you saw it wasn't anger in her eyes, but hurt—a wounded response to your harsh dismissal.

After a few seconds, Wanda nodded. “I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again,” she said softly.

Just then, Clint appeared around the corner. You gave him a questioning look. He might have seemed like he was just passing by, but you weren’t deceived. Clint had no reason to be in this hallway at this hour. It seemed more likely he had been eavesdropping on the last part of your conversation and chose this moment to step in.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked lightly.

“I was just looking for someone to help me with hand-to-hand training,” Wanda explained, already backing away from your doorway.

“I’m the guy for that,” he replied. “Head to the training room, I'll join you shortly.”

“Thanks,” she said, casting a final glance your way before turning on her heel and striding away.

Clint turned to you the moment you two were alone. “Got a minute?”

“Not really,” you replied, though you stayed rooted in your spot.

He leaned against the wall beside your door. “What's going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn't look like nothing,” he countered. “You're being pretty rude.”

You folded your arms. “She never apologized to the team.”

“And you think giving her the cold shoulder is going to fix that?” he asked. “Grow the fuck up, kid. Bullying the new recruit isn't doing any of us any favors.”

“She did some really awful things, Clint,” you reasoned. “She hasn't taken responsibility for that.”

He sighed. “And you've never screwed up? Never done something you regretted?”

“That's different.”

“Is it?” he challenged. “Because from where I'm standing, we all have our demons. You don't see the rest of us acting like we're better than anyone.”

You looked away. “You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.”

“Wanda showed me more than just a bad dream,” you whispered. “I—” You started to spill the details of your nightmare but stopped, the fear of appearing vulnerable, of seeming weak and worthless like your mother always made you feel, silencing you. When it became apparent you wouldn't continue, Clint added, “Ever thought that maybe she's dealing with her own nightmares too?”

You glanced back at him. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because we're a team,” he said simply. “And teams look out for each other. Even when it's hard.”

“I don’t know if I can—”

“No one's asking you to be her best friend,” he said. “But at least be civil. Professional. The mission depends on it.”

You nodded, standing straighter. “I'll do my job.”

“Good,” he said, pushing off the wall. “That's all I'm asking.”

“Good night, Clint,” you muttered, heading back to your room.

“One more thing,” Clint called out just before you could close the door completely. “You’re right—she never apologized to the team. But she sure as hell apologized to you earlier.”

—

The Quinjet touched down just beyond the rocky outskirts of the small Turkish village, three miles from the fortified base the team was about to infiltrate. The rogue faction had been using it as a stronghold to store advanced weaponry and conduct illicit operations. You unbuckled your harness and stood, adjusting your gear as the rear hatch lowered to reveal the arid landscape bathed in the golden hues of early morning. 

Natasha caught your eye as she secured her gear. “Play nice,” she said, her voice low enough that only you could hear. 

You gave a noncommittal shrug in response.

She arched an eyebrow but didn't press the point. Instead, she adjusted the strap of her Widow's Bite and headed down the ramp.

Clint was perched near a cluster of boulders, bow ready. He didn't speak; he just shot you a pointed look and nodded slightly. You'd never felt more babysat than you did at that moment. Trying to make an effort to improve your working relationship with Wanda (at their behest), you headed toward her without a clear plan for the conversation. A pep talk maybe? You weren’t great at those, but you had absorbed enough from Steve to last several lifetimes.

But just as you were mere steps away from her, she breezed past without a glance in your direction, heading straight toward where Steve was waiting for Tony and Vision's signal to advance. It was as if you didn't exist.

Fair enough, you thought. Two could play at that game.

You tapped the side of your headgear, bringing up the HUD that F.R.I.D.A.Y had uploaded with the mission parameters. A translucent map overlaid your vision, highlighting your designated route through the village's eastern perimeter. Your task was to secure the potential exit points and ensure no targets slipped through once the operation commenced.

“All right, everyone, we’ve got clearance from the air team,” Steve's voice trembled over the comms. There was an unusual distortion in the signal, and you silently hoped it wouldn’t cause problems later. “Check in.”

“In position,” came the succinct reply from Natasha

“Ready on the western ridge,” Clint reported.

“Copy that,” Steve said. “Wanda and I will approach the main entrance from the south. Y/N, you take the north side. Secure any escape routes and watch for patrols.”

You pressed a finger to your earpiece. “Understood.”

“Keep comms open and stay sharp,” Steve added, and with that, everyone moved into position.

You moved into position, the rugged terrain providing ample cover. The north exit was a chokepoint—a narrow path bordered by steep cliffs. Perfect for an ambush, but also a potential death trap.

“All clear on my end,” you whispered into the comm.

“Strange,” Clint remarked.

“Same here,” Natasha agreed. “It's too quiet. I don’t like it.”

Your instincts prickled. 

Then, a faint vibration underfoot. You frowned, kneeling to touch the ground. The tremor grew stronger, rhythmic.

“Do you feel that?” you asked softly.

“Feel what?” Steve's voice came through.

Before you could respond, the ground shook violently. From hidden crevices and camouflaged tunnels, a swarm of hostiles erupted, pouring into the pass like a flood. Dozens—no, hundreds—armed to the teeth and moving with eerie coordination.

“Ambush!” you yelled, scrambling for cover.

“Hold your position—we're coming for you!” Steve roared. 

It should have assured you, but for the next few minutes, you were on your own. You took stock of your surroundings. The pass was narrow—a choke point. It was clear now that it’s a trap, and the enemy got lucky that a superpowered didn’t end up scouting this area.

You opened fire with your dual silencers, taking down several men with precise shots. But for every one you dropped, two more seemed to appear in his place. They weren’t just attacking—they were herding you, forcing you deeper into the pass where the escape routes grew fewer and fewer.

Sweat trickled down your temple as you struggled to hold them off. Your muscles ached, and your breaths came in ragged gasps. An unexpected blow struck your side, slamming you against the rocky wall.

Gritting your teeth, you pressed against the cliffside, muscles taut. Outnumbered and isolated, and not to mention trapped on a dangerous corner, survival seemed impossible.

“Come on,” you muttered to yourself. “Think.”

Just as the closest attacker lunged, a surge of energy hurled him backwards. Wind seemed to come in every direction as Wanda landed on her feet beside you, her eyes glowing red.

Relief washed over you. “Your timing is impeccable.” You hadn't expected that seeing Wanda would make you feel so incredibly safe, but it did. It really did.

She gave a faint smile, eyes scanning the swarm of hostiles regrouping ahead. “We need to find a way out of this trap,” she urged.

“Agreed,” you replied, reloading your weapon. 

The narrow pass had become a funnel, channeling them straight toward you. Rocks jutted out from the cliffside, creating pockets of shadow.

“We're pinned down,” you noted, pressing your back against the cold stone beside hers. The space was tight, forcing you closer together. You could feel the warmth radiating from her despite the cool mountain air. 

Wanda glanced upward. “We might be able to climb to that ledge,” she suggested, her breath brushing against your ear.

“Worth a shot. I'll boost you up.”

Wanda gave a small, amused smile. “You don't have to do that. I can get up there myself.”

It took a moment for the realization to hit you. Of course—her psionic abilities allowed her to levitate. That's how she'd reached you so quickly earlier; she'd flown. Heat rushed to your face as embarrassment set in. “Right,” you mumbled, feeling a bit foolish. “I forgot you could... you know...”

If Wanda picked up on your discomfort, she kept it to herself. “I can give you a lift if you want,” she offered.

You looked up at the ledge, then back at her. Swallowing your pride, you gave a curt nod. “Sure.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Just relax.”

That was easier said than done, considering the enemies that surrounded you both. But even harder than that was the idea of letting Wanda use her powers on you, even if it was just to help you reach that damned ledge.

“Ready?” Her eyes combed yours, fishing for consent.

“Ready.”

Her hands came up, almost invisible in their movement. A warm fuzzy feeling wrapped around you, and the ground fell away as she floated you up, effortless as breathing.

“Almost there,” she murmured.

She steered you onto the ledge, and when your feet hit solid ground, you exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding. “Thanks,” you tossed over your shoulder.

She smiled up at you. “Don’t mention it.”

She joined you shortly afterwards, landing gracefully beside you. The proximity was unavoidable on the narrow ledge, and you were acutely aware of how close you stood.

“Now what?”

Wanda leaned against the wall beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. “We need to find a way to contact the team.”

You checked your equipment. “Comms are jammed.”

She frowned. “They must have a dampening field.”

An explosion rocked the ground nearby, showering you with debris. “We can't stay like this here forever,” you muttered.

Wanda took a deep breath. “There is... something I can try.”

You glanced at her. “What is it?”

She swallowed hard. “I can get inside their heads—like I did before—to make them stand down.”

Like she did before in Johannesburg—to you, to the entire team in this mission sans Vision. You saw the fear in her eyes—the fear of your judgment, of repeating past mistakes. It struck you then how much she regretted what had happened between you.

Another burst of gunfire erupted, making you both flinch. There was no time.

You looked her in the eye and nodded. “Do it.”

Wanda wasted no time further. She got to work, her hands moving like a spider’s legs weaving its web. Looking down, you saw the men freeze mid-step. One by one, they dropped their weapons, eyes wide with unseen terror.

Unable to help yourself, you asked, “What are they seeing?” 

Wanda kept her eyes on her work, pointedly avoiding your gaze. “Their worst fears and deepest guilts. They’re confronting the nightmares that haunt them most.”

For a split-second, you felt sorry for these people.

“Let's move,” you said, placing a reassuring hand on Wanda’s shoulder.

—

Reaching higher ground, you and Wanda were finally able to reestablish communication with the rest of the team. From his position, Steve was quick to inform the local authorities about the perpetrators that Wanda had incapacitated with her powers, ensuring they remained trapped within their own mental constructs until help arrived. Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint were busy collecting crucial evidence from the scene, items they believed would be vital in piecing together a solid case against the previously concealed masterminds of the operation. As for Vision and Tony, they razed the base to the ground. 

Back at the Quinjet, you and Wanda took up positions to oversee and secure the extraction route.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

She looked up, slightly surprised. “Y-You’re welcome.”

You shifted your weight, grimacing slightly at a bruise forming on your side. “Thought being a veteran would make this mission easier,” you mused, going over the jet’s controls to give yourself something to do while you both waited for the others. “Overestimated myself this time.”

Wanda nodded thoughtfully. 

Another period of silence stretched out, taut but not entirely uncomfortable. She seemed to wrestle with something before speaking again. “May I ask you a question?”

You hesitated, wary of where this might lead. “Sure.”

She took a slow breath. “Do you think... you might ever forgive me for what happened in Johannesburg?”

You exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the distant peaks. “Deep down, I know it wasn't entirely your fault,” you began, “but sometimes it's easier to face your fears when you have someone else to blame for them.”

She absorbed your words quietly. “I understand,” she said softly. She thought about Tony. For the longest time, she blamed him for everything.

“Wanda, I—”

Before the conversation could continue, footsteps crunched on gravel behind you. The rest of the team was coming down the trail, and Natasha was the first to pick up on the fact that you and Wanda had been left alone together without any fireworks.

She walked up to you with a sly grin barely lifting the corners of her mouth. “Good work out there,” she said.

You rolled your eyes and drifted to a quieter corner, away from the team.

Wanda had saved you. That much was clear, and it meant you owed her your life—a debt that sat uneasily with you. You were grateful, of course, but the last thing you wanted was to owe anything to anyone.

Especially not to someone who terrified you to your core.

[narrycherries]

ivy: and now I’m covered in you..

she can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble and it irritates him more than it should

(part 4)

masterlist / ivy series

word count: 14.3k

warnings/tags: harry x fem oc, alcohol use, angst, enemies to lovers

The small weekend getaway came quicker than Ivy anticipated it would. She had three weeks to mentally prepare for literally anything that was possible. Would she have a perfect weekend with no rude comments or harsh death glares, or would she feel the wrath of someone in particular’s attitude? She wasn’t sure, but she hoped she would be able to enjoy her time away. For the rather short car ride, she made sure to pack her current diary so she could jot down her thoughts if things become too chaotic in her mind.

Ivy mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ to Niall as he grabbed her bag from her and tossed it in the trunk of his car.

“Got everything?” Emma asked just as Ivy grabbed the car door to get in.

“Yeah, I triple checked.”

Unfortunately for her, all the preparation she did to ensure herself that she’d be able to handle any situation that occured within the group was pretty much wasted. Emma told her that Niall insisted they carpool, and that they ride with him. That part wasn’t the issue, of course, it was the fact that someone else would be joining them. When Ivy opened the back door and quietly got in the car, she felt a pair of cold eyes looking her way.

Harry offered up the front seat to Emma, which led him to the back with her. He wasn’t necessarily thrilled with the arrangement either, but he could easily get over it, unlike Ivy. She was already feeling the nervousness building in her gut, threatening to spill out of her mouth and empty her stomach contents. No amount of preparation could have prepared her for this. She hadn’t been this close to him before, the table at the restaurant was much wider than the space between them in the car. Thankfully, Niall placed Emma’s rolled up throw blanket in the middle, securing the separation between them.

“Alright. Let’s hit the road.” Niall said with a sigh as he shut his door and quickly adjusted his rear view mirror.

Ivy had her small tote bag resting on her lap, it was filled with a few essential things along with some random things to keep her occupied in the car and during downtime at the hotel. She wanted to grab her diary already, they hadn’t even left the neighbor yet, and spill her guts out onto the pages. The radio was quietly buzzing in the car as Niall and Emma chatted amongst themselves about the directions. She was glad it wasn’t completely silent, and she was even more appreciative of the fact nobody was trying to make conversation with her.

She opted to let her eyes stare mindlessly out of the window as Niall navigated through the city. So far, she was content with his driving and she wasn’t feeling any sort of motion sickness from riding. Maybe this would be better than she first thought. As long as she was able to stay calm and focused on everything but the person next to her, then she’d be perfectly fine.

Thirty minutes into the drive, Ivy decided that she needed to busy herself with a task before she got the chance to get lost in her thoughts. She reached into her bag and pulled out the small book she had been using as a diary the past few weeks. She wrote an awful lot, so she filled books quickly. Her newest choice was a travel sized spiral bound notebook with a thick front cover decorated with a few random stickers she had. She clicked the pen, flipping to the page where she left off last. She wasn’t concerned with writing neatly, so she just held it in her opposite hand as she started to write.

Words were coming naturally to her, her thoughts filling the page so easily. This book just so happened to be slap full of inserts that pertained to Harry. They weren’t her thoughts of infatuation and obsession, but instead it was the worry and anxious ideas that lined the pages. After a few lines, she paused on the writing and decided to doodle a small flower in the lower corner of the page.

“Harry?” Niall said loud enough to catch Ivy’s attention.

She lifted her head and saw that Niall was looking in the mirror at him, but he was obviously not successful in getting him to answer. She looked over and saw that he had his arms over his chest, earbuds in his ears, and his eyes were staring out of the window. His music was loud enough for her to tell that he had it on, but she couldn’t make out anything specific.

“He’s listening to music.” She said after Niall called his name again.

He huffed. “Can you hit him? I need him to text Zayn.”

Ivy felt her throat start to swell. She had been so relaxed and calm during the drive, but it was all circling down the drain now. Niall had asked her a simple question, wanted her to do a small favor - she couldn’t act like he said something insane. She swallowed gently and pulled all of her courage together. Her heart stammered over a beat, missing it entirely, as she reached over to him. Ivy tapped her fingertip against his arm, just above his elbow. He didn’t jump or flinch, he simply turned his head to look at her. His brows were lowered, a bit of confusion on his expression. She expected him to react differently, assumed he would scream at her or ask her why she thought she could touch him.

When she pointed towards Niall, Harry dropped his eyes to his phone and picked it up from his leg, pausing his music and looking at Niall’s reflection in the mirror.

“What?” He mumbled out, not entirely pleased with being disturbed but it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Can you text Zayn and ask them how far out they are? Cory’s driving them.”

Harry nodded, unlocking his phone so he could type. “Yeah.”

Ivy had already turned her attention back to her diary, but she was still working on the small bouquet of flowers she was drawing in the corner. It was definitely nothing artistic or perfect, just a little doodle to fill the space. She was aware of Harry’s presence again, and she didn’t want him to see her writing. After a couple of silent moments, she flipped the book shut and laid her hand over it, her curious eyes moving to the window.

“He said they’ve got like half an hour.” Harry said, his deep voice rattling through the car and cutting straight through the wall Ivy built up to avoid him.

She shifted her head enough so that she could look at him from the corner of her eye. An obvious stare would be entirely too awkward while in the car, so she stuck to her sneaky glances.

After assuming Niall didn’t want to say anything else to him, Harry turned his music back on and reverted to his previous position. Ivy found it intriguing how he was slowly moving his fingers that were tucked beneath his arm. The simple gesture was making her bite the inside of her cheek. He wasn’t even aware of it himself, yet she was focused on it like it was the most spectacular thing.

She couldn’t resist looking at the tattoos she could see living on his skin. The dark ink settled in his flesh was eye catching, she wondered if he had more she couldn’t see. While observing him from this point of view, she noticed a piercing hole in his lobe. She made a mental note to try to catch a glimpse of his other one to see if there’s a matching hole. She hadn’t noticed any earrings before, so maybe he didn’t wear them often. Her tongue poked out to coat her lips as she looked at his long eyelashes, they were resting gently on his cheek. Was he asleep? No, she didn’t think so. He just was relaxing and closing his eyes for a while. Her question was answered within a second as his eyes slowly peeled open, his gaze fixed on the window.

She moved her eyes down his frame. He was wearing a faded t-shirt with a design on the front that his arms hid from her view. He ditched his dark jeans for sweatpants, she supposed to be more comfortable during the drive. She was surprised he could appear so relaxed and normal, instead of uptight and cocky.

Ivy finally picked her eyes back up, choosing to stare at his face for a bit longer. Her eyes widened and flames burst on her cheeks as she met his eyes. She stayed like that, just staring at him, for a long moment. She wondered what he was thinking. Surely something along the lines of ‘this girl is crazy’. She felt the eruption of butterflies in her stomach, causing her to rip her gaze from his. She opted to stare at the back of the seat in front of her, embarrassed to have been caught by him. It wasn’t the first time she had been caught staring at him, and she feared it wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t say anything to her, though. He wasn’t annoyed or irritated, he only looked her way because her stare was so intense. He could feel it on him, burning holes through him. Maybe she was just looking around the car while thinking about something and her eyes just so happened to land on him, or maybe it was purposeful - he wasn’t certain. He didn’t look away from her just yet. It was so easy to tell she was nervous. Was it because he caught her or was it because they were so close? It was most likely both. Harry ran his eyes over her, taking in her appearance and body language. She was like a statue, not daring to move one little bit. He just knew that if she looked back his way and saw he was still eyeing her down, she’d combust.

For the remainder of the drive, Ivy kept her eyes down on her notebook and Harry fixated his on the back of his eyelids. She was grateful that he had fallen asleep and couldn’t give her glances that took her breath away and made her heart race. The ride itself was calming, though. Niall and Emma didn’t talk much, just listened to the radio. Once they got to the hotel, Ivy sent Michelle a text to let her know they were there. They would be sharing a room for the weekend. The others arrived way before them and already had their room keys.

Niall popped the trunk and gestured for everyone to take their bags. Ivy reached in for hers, tugging it out of the pile and shoving the strap on her shoulder. She stepped back and accidentally brushed her bag against Harry. She didn’t notice, but he did. A light sigh came from his lips as she walked off to the door. Emma was following close behind her.

“We all should be on the same floor.” Emma said as they entered the lobby.

Ivy glanced over her shoulder. “I think so. Michelle said ours is on three.”

“Ugh. I have to wait for Niall to check in.” She groaned as Ivy headed to the elevator.

She stopped and decided to wait with Emma instead, just so she wouldn’t be by herself. Niall and Harry strolled through the door together, talking about something neither of the girls could hear. Niall went to the counter, leaving Harry to head to the elevator.

“Guess I’ll go over there.” Emma mumbled, grabbing her bag from the floor, then started the short trip to Niall.

Ivy took a deep breath as she prepared herself for what was about to come. She beat Harry to the elevator, but when she pushed the button it decided to be extremely slow. Cory was his roommate for the weekend, and he was waiting upstairs like everyone else. Harry came up behind her, his eyes fixed on the elevator door as he waited. Ivy wanted to throw up right there, just wanted to lose her mind and all control of her body. She didn’t want to be alone with him.

When the door opened, someone stepped out and gave them both a polite smile. Ivy returned it, she was sure Harry didn’t. She chose the spot closest to the control panel, hoping that Harry would wait for the next one. He didn’t do that, of course, he got on with her. He stood in the back corner, the furthest he could get from her in the small space. She pressed in the three button and glanced back at Harry, but when he didn’t say anything about a different floor, she turned her eyes back to the display of buttons.

The elevator was moving at snail speed. It felt like absolute torture. He was right behind her and there was nothing she could do to change it right now. She had to deal with it, and to be frank, she was failing at doing so. Her stomach was flipping and twisting inside of her body, her heart racing and skipping beats like she was falling from an airplane. Her feet felt like they weighed a ton as she stood still, not wanting to move any closer to him by accident.

Finally, after what felt like a torturous eternity, the elevator stopped and the door opened. Harry let her walk out first, and she did her best to get a good distance ahead of him. She didn’t know where his room was, and she didn’t necessarily care, she just had to find hers first. His strides were much longer than hers, and he was practically walking beside her down the hall. He kept space between them. It was obvious to him that she didn’t feel comfortable being so close to him, so he tried to keep the distance.

Her eyes hastily scanned over the room numbers, wishing that hers would magically appear. It seemed as though she was walking down an endless hall. Her worrying had taken over her body. In reality, her room was just a short walk from the elevator. She stopped as she found the room number, a sigh of relief escaping past her lips. She knocked on the door and waited patiently for Michelle to open it. Curiously, she turned her head to see where Harry ended up, and to her dismay.. his room just happened to be right next to hers.

A cool whiff of air made her skin crawl as Michelle opened the door, a smile on her face as she greeted Ivy with a quick hug. She grabbed her hand and pulled her inside the room.

“I haven’t picked a bed yet. I didn’t know your preference.. whether you wanted by the window or what.” Michelle said with a laugh as Ivy dropped her bag in front of the empty dresser.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll take this one, I guess.” She gestured to the one closest to the window.

“Perfect!” Michelle picked her own bag off the floor and tossed it on the bed that was now hers for the weekend. “How was the drive?”

Ivy copied her, moving her bag onto the bed so she could unpack a few essential things. “It was nice. It was quiet and peaceful.”

Michelle scoffed. “Peaceful? With Niall and Harry?”

Ivy shrugged lightly as she crossed her legs on the bed. “We didn’t really.. talk or anything. I think everyone was tired.”

When she looked towards Michelle, she didn’t expect to be met with a narrow gaze and pursed lips. She didn’t look like she believed what had been said to her. Ivy tried to ignore it, maybe she was just in shock that Niall’s energetic demeanor wasn’t present during the drive.

“So.. nothing else happened with Harry?” Michelle asked curiously as she took out the ensemble she would be wearing later.

“No.. He didn’t say anything to me. It was very calm.”

“Well that’s good. Maybe he’s warming up to you.”

Michelle’s words were comical. If anything, they were more cold to each other than when they first met. Ivy didn’t want to be in the same room with him, and he didn’t seem to give a damn about her existence. She decided to let it go and not focus on the worrying thoughts right now.

“How was the drive for you?” Ivy asked, wanting to change the topic away from herself.

Michelle shook her head. “It was interesting. Cory and Zayn had some weird conversations.”

“I can only imagine. I’ve only heard a few of their stories.. but I already know they’re crazy together.”

As Michelle got up to grab one of the hotel hangers, she continued talking. “Yeah, they’re a good time, though. Hey, you missed our last show. Are you gonna come to the next one?”

Ivy swallowed as she contemplated what to say back. She purposely chose to skip the show two weeks ago. Emma begged her for days to change her mind, but she ultimately decided it would be better if she didn’t. She didn’t want to be around Harry at the time. The dinner situation had soured her feelings again, made her very confused with herself. Niall wasn’t offended by her decision, though, he assured her they would have another show soon that she could attend. She used the excuse of being overworked and wanting to relax, and it worked for the most part.

“Um, probably. I told Emma I would.” She said almost hesitantly. She didn’t want to promise something then change her mind and break it. “When is it?”

“Three weeks.” Michelle said as she fixed her outfit on the hanger and put it in the small closet. She didn’t want it to have wrinkles once it was time to get dressed.

“I’ll try to. I won’t make any other plans or anything.”

“Good! We can have a redo. Hopefully everything will go perfectly.”

Ivy let out an unamused laugh. “Yeah.. hopefully.”

“Zayn and Alyssa are across the hall, by the way. And Cory and Harry are next to us.” Michelle said as she glanced down at her phone, a text coming through. “And looks like Niall and Emma are a few rooms down.”

Ivy didn’t say, just gave her a nod when Michelle looked over at her. She felt a sting in her stomach as she realized Harry was on the other side of the wall she was staring at. What was he doing in there? Was he catching up with Cory, was he unpacking his clothes, was he laying down to finish the nap he took in the car? She found herself really lost in wondering what he could be up to. If she knew anything for sure, it was that this was going to be a long weekend.

—•—

Michelle was humming quietly to herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall, checking to see if her makeup looked good. Ivy looked at her from the bathroom doorway, she had just finished applying her makeup and putting her jewelry on.

“You look great.”

Michelle smiled and turned to face her. “Thanks. So do you, hot stuff!” She waved her hand in front of her face, pretending to faint.

Ivy rolled her eyes and walked out of the bathroom, a shy smile on her lips as she grabbed the small purse she brought along to carry. It was on a gold colored chain that she could put over her body, keeping the bag close to her. She caught a glimpse of her reflection and decided to admire it for a moment. Michelle watched with a proud grin as Ivy rotated in the mirror, looking at her self in great detail. She had to make sure everything was perfect.

“This dress doesn’t make my stomach poke out too much, does it?” She asked as she started to chew on her cheek.

Michelle moved to be next to her, her eyes landing on their reflections. “You look great.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I don’t think it draws attention to your stomach at all. It’s not too tight, not too loose. It’s very flattering on you.” Michelle explained further, hoping she would help the anxiety disappear.

“And the color? Dark green isn’t.. ugly on me, is it?”

Michelle examined the dark green fabric of the dress, noting how nice it looked against her skin and with her hair. “It’s hot. Makes your eyes pop. You look good.”

Ivy took a deep breath and very slowly pushed it out. “Thanks.”

“You worry too much.” Michelle playfully pinched her elbow. “You’re gorgeous.”

“I.. I don’t know about that.” Ivy mumbled back as she gently pushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the thick strap of her dress. She thought the dress was nice, so hearing that Michelle believed the same was reassuring. “I just get.. nervous.”

“No need to be nervous, trust me. You’re glowing, darling.” Michelle gave her a laugh and a quick hug, wanting her to feel better about her appearance.

Michelle left her side to put her shoes on, leaving Ivy to stare at herself alone. She felt her throat go dry as she twisted her body from side to side, kicking her leg out gently and posing for herself. She wasn’t as confident as she wanted to be right now. Michelle eyed her the whole time, and it was obvious that Ivy wasn’t pleased.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Michelle said as she stayed perched on the foot of the hotel bed.

“Yeah.”

“Why do you think you’re not hot? Like.. I can tell you want to love the way you look right now.. but something’s stopping you.”

Although Emma was a very close friend, she had never asked anything like that before. Emma was always so supportive and did her best to hype Ivy up. Michelle seemed more interested in solving the problem. Ivy let out a quiet laugh and turned away from the mirror, opting to stare at her own feet instead.

“Well.. there’s gotta be something wrong with me.” She shrugged, a nonchalant expression taking over her face.

Michelle frowned and stood up, immediately going to grab her elbows to get her attention. When Ivy lifted her head up to look at her, she could tell something was wrong. It went farther than the fit of a dress. There wasn’t much Ivy could do to escape this, so she just stayed silent and waited for Michelle to say something.

“What do you mean?”

Ivy licked her lips, her eyes trailing off to stare at the wall behind Michelle. “I don’t know.. I must be.. not attractive.”

“Why are you saying that? Has someone told you that before?” Michelle was quick with her responses, not wanting to give the impression that she didn’t care to listen.

“No, but.. do you see a man here?” Ivy looked around, lifting her brows as the weighted thoughts began to come out of her mouth. “I’m obviously not.. attractive enough to be someone’s girlfriend.”

Michelle felt her own heart sink at the words that left her mouth. “Ivy, don’t say that. You’re literally so beautiful. Any decent guy would see that. You’re a prize. You’re sweet and funny and kind.. on top of being gorgeous.”

She shook her head and tried her best to compose herself, she didn’t want to cry and ruin her makeup. She spent too long getting ready to have it all smudged. Michelle released her arms, but didn’t move back. Ivy wondered why it was so important to Michelle, why did she care so much?

“I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.” She mumbled under her breath, turning away from Michelle entirely. She was aware of the time and knew they had to meet the others in the lobby soon. “We should go.”

Michelle wanted to keep the conversation going, but she didn’t want to cross any lines or press any wrong buttons. Ivy clearly didn’t want to discuss any more, so she was going to respect that. She thought maybe she could carry it on when they got back, or even tomorrow while they were alone in the room. Right now wasn’t the time.

When they got to the lobby, almost everyone was waiting in a small huddle. Zayn and Alyssa were the only ones not downstairs. As soon as Emma laid her eyes on Ivy, she squealed and ran over to her, excitedly hugging her like they’d been apart for months. She complimented her outfit and raved about how perfect she looked, which warranted a shy shake of the head from Ivy. Michelle added a few comments to further empower her, making sure to give her a bright smile. She was grateful for the kind words and she hoped they would remain in her head for the rest of the night. She wasn’t going out to purposely hunt for a man, she just wanted to have fun with everyone.

Once Zayn and Alyssa finally joined them, they headed out of the door. The place they were going was just a few short blocks away, and everyone agreed on walking there. Taking a cab back to the hotel later that night would most likely be everyone’s decision, but for now they were fine with walking together. Niall made a comment about Emma and Ivy wearing heels, but they both assured him they were perfectly fine. Other than that, everyone either kept to themselves or made small talk as they walked down sidewalks and crossed roads, zigzagging through the area.

Ivy was well aware that she was walking in front of Harry, and that nobody was walking behind him. Their group had to form a line when they got to the busier sections of the area, not wanting to be in anyone’s way as they passed through. She wasn’t sure how she ended up behind Michelle, but she was somewhat glad that she wasn’t at the very end. Although she was comfortable and confident in her heels, they did make her walk just a tad bit slower than normal. Just as they were about to reach a corner where they needed to turn, her phone buzzed in her small purse. She furrowed her brows and pulled it out, unsure of who was texting her. It was a message from her dad asking if she was still planning on going to see him next weekend. She was typing up a reply, a smile on her face as she stared at the screen. She hadn’t seen her dad in a few weeks, he had been so busy with work, so she was excited for the plans they had made. The moment she pressed the send button, she felt her weight shift and a shriek flew from her mouth.

Before she could fall and hurt her ankle or scrape up her exposed skin, something grabbed onto her and tugged her the opposite way, steadily her body on the sidewalk. She looked down and saw the curb, she was extremely close to stepping off it and falling into the road. When she turned her head to look next to her, her heart started to pump faster than it ever had before.

Ivy was met with a stern glare from a set of familiar green eyes. He had his lips in a straight line, his brows tight on his forehead. She quickly licked her lips and tried to speak, but he interrupted her before she could even take a breath.

“Watch where you’re walking.” Harry said through a huff as he finally released the pressure his hand created on her arm.

She swallowed the lump that was trying to stop up her throat. “Sorry, thanks.”

He gave her a weird look. “Why are you apologizing? Just pay attention.”

Ivy couldn’t verbally respond, something inside of her was preventing that from happening. She could only nod and give him a soft smile, which he didn’t return in any way. He gestured for her to start walking again to catch up with the others, they had already turned the corner. She got the gist and began walking again, this time with her phone tucked away in her purse and her eyes fixed on what was ahead of her. Harry’s presence stayed behind her, close enough for her to sense him, but far enough to keep a distance. He didn’t want to run into her if she decided to distract herself again.

—•—

Ivy was slightly overwhelmed by the thick crowd of people they ended up being stuck in the middle of. She made sure to stay close to everyone else to prevent getting lost or swept away by a sea of people. The event space was much larger than the bar they had her in weeks ago, but that definitely didn’t mean there was any free standing room anywhere. She felt a little bit of suffocation, but she hoped the drink in her hand would ease her nerves.

Niall was yelling over the music at Michelle and Alyssa, trying to explain something to them but Ivy really couldn’t hear him. She kept her eyes to herself, not wanting to accidentally find herself staring at anyone. Emma was already swaying her hips side to side to the music, bumping into Ivy every now and then. She wanted to get comfortable and enjoy the music, too, but she was still too nervous. So, she just sipped her drink and waited patiently for it to kick in.

The band wasn’t supposed to come for another fifteen minutes, they had been there for half an hour already. Niall’s hand was clutching a beer, Cory and Zayn started off with two shots each. Ivy noticed while they were at the bar earlier that Alyssa didn’t get anything. Maybe she wasn’t big on drinking. The rest of them got something to start the night with.

“I love this song!” Emma yelled happily, grabbing Ivy’s hand as she jumped up and down. She just laughed and gave her a nod, not as enthused by the music as Emma was. “Dance with me!”

“Maybe later!” She yelled back, lifting her drink to indicate she’d need another, or possibly three before she could let loose.

Emma groaned, but decided to not let it drag her mood down. She turned to Niall, pulling him from his conversation and forcing him to somewhat dance with her. He was mostly just nodding his head and grinning at her. Michelle was starting to vibe with the music, facing towards Alyssa in an attempt to get her to join. She soon did, leaving Zayn to talk with Cory and Harry.

Harry.. Of course she hadn’t forgotten about him. She made a few quick glances at him since they arrived, but she tried her best to mind her business. She was afraid something would be said, that same old feeling she gets when she’s around him. It was almost too natural of a feeling. But she couldn’t really resist the temptation, especially since he was so close to her. He was leaning in to Cory and Zayn when he spoke so they could hear him over the loud music. He put a smirk on his lips and laughed a few times, making Ivy’s heart skip a beat.

She thought he looked rather well put together tonight. His hair was a bit messy from the gentle breeze during the walk over, but it still looked so perfect. He was wearing his usual dark jeans, paired with a pair of black boots with a short heel, and a blue shirt. The sleeves were purposely rolled and pushed up to his elbows, his tattoos on display for anyone’s lingering eyes. She even caught a whiff of his cologne while they were walking, when he caught her, and she thought it was nice. Her teeth bit down on her cheek as she looked at his chest, some of his skin exposed from the undone buttons. She thought it was an interesting look, but it fit his style well. He was as eye catching as ever.

It was so easy for her to get lost in him. She tore her eyes away, looking towards Emma but she was fully caught up with Niall and not worried about anything else. That feeling of being the odd one out was building in her gut. Everyone was accompanied by someone except her.

Ivy’s attention fell to her drink. She shook the cup, watching the ice swirl in the liquid. She should’ve gotten something stronger. She huffed to herself before taking a drink. Maybe if she drank it faster it would work better. The thought of Harry had quickly faded from her mind, the new worry of being alone was taking over entirely. It was hard to not feel like she didn’t belong. Even though this isn’t the first time she’s been around everyone, she still didn’t know them as well as they knew each other. Sure, she could spark up a conversation would Zayn if she wanted to, but what if he was responding just to be polite? The idea of them pretending to like her was difficult to ignore. She didn’t want to be so anxious about it and let those crazy thoughts run wild, but it was almost impossible to stop it once it begins.

Time slipped by while Ivy stayed to herself. There was an announcement that the band was about to come on the stage on the other side of the room. It was much larger than the theater-turned-club stage she watched them perform on. This was definitely a much bigger venue with a more serious act taking stage. Niall yelled something about trying to get closer, which prompted Emma to take Ivy’s hand. As a group, they navigated through the crowd. Not everyone was turned towards the band, so it was easier to slide through.

They didn’t get right up on the stage, but they weren’t far. Emma let go of her hand once they were settled in a space. She was excited about the show and hoped that it would make her forget all the things filling her head. Before long, the band filed onto the stage and started their set. Emma made sure to stay next to her, which she appreciated immensely. She was sort of worried about being knocked over or pulled from the group by people shoving their way through. Nobody seemed to be pushing around just yet, though.

For the most part, the experience was very fun and positive for Ivy. The worry she had suffered through was far gone now. She was enjoying the music and knew most of the songs they were doing. She danced and cheered through their original songs, as well, not carrying that she hadn’t heard them before. It was exhilarating to just jump around and throw her hands up in the air. She had successfully pushed down all those anxious thoughts and emotions that were bothering her. She felt happy and free, like nothing could stop this high.

Niall and Cory offered to make a run to the bar for everyone, so she gladly threw in her drink order. She was definitely feeling the buzz of the alcohol creeping through her veins, and she was craving more of it. As soon as they returned, she started drinking from the new plastic cup. Her hips never stopped moving to the music, Emma grabbing her every now and then to dance together.

Everything was going well, it almost seemed too good to be true. Ivy kept her focus on the band, not caring what was going on around her aside from Emma. Niall had her attention now though, so Ivy was dancing along to the music on her own. She was so into the moment that she didn’t realize she was moving around so much, until she backed into something that stopped her.

She turned slightly to apologize to the random person she hit, but she audibly gasped and her eyes went wide. Harry was standing there, a gentle lift of his brow served as his response.

“Sorry!” She yelled over the music, her stomach dropping as she realized he had been behind her while she was dancing.

He rolled his eyes and gave her a nod, instantly shifting his stare back to the stage. She was unsure of how long he had been behind her, the last time she checked he was over by Zayn and Alyssa, the complete opposite side of the space their lot was taking up. There was no need to worry over it, she shook it from her mind and continued where she left off.

Emma squealed and immediately dropped Niall’s hands to turn to Ivy. The band was doing another cover, and this time it was one of their favorite songs to karaoke together. Ivy let out a laugh as Emma grabbed onto her waist and pulled her close. Niall shook his head and just chuckled at them, letting them have their moment together.

The girls were extremely expressive as the Joan Jett song blasted through the room. They were both impressed by the band’s performance of the song, and they showed their support by singing and dancing along. With every whip of Ivy’s head from side to side, her hair swung in the air. Emma was practically screaming the lyrics out, feeling like she was on another planet. If they did anything right together, it was have the time of their lives.

Once the song ended, Ivy had to catch her breath. She shook her head when Emma tried to make her keep on, the next song was just as good. She couldn’t handle it right now, she was out of breath and her throat hurt from all the screaming. Emma chose to focus on Niall again, forcing him to dance now, leaving her to collect herself.

Even though she craved water, she didn’t dismiss the drink in her hand. Somehow, most of the liquid managed to stay in the cup. She took a big guzzle, aiming to coat her mouth with the cold feeling to soothe it. The effects of the alcohol were the least of her worries. As much as she loved to dance and sing with Emma, she was worn out already. A good ten or so minutes of staying idle would do her some good.

A grunt pushed past her lips as she felt her stomach twirl around. Maybe she shouldn’t be jumping around so much while there’s alcohol roaming in her body. She pressed her hand to her stomach, taking a few slow breaths to try and calm herself. The last thing she wanted to do was throw up. Thankfully, after a few more minutes of staying still and focusing on settling herself down, her stomach stopped aching and she felt much better.

The feeling didn’t stick around very long, though. She was nodding her head to the music, enjoying the current song the band was playing, when someone started pushing their way through the crowd. Ivy’s eyes were locked on the band as she peeked between all the heads in front of her to get a good look at them. She didn’t notice that someone was trying to get by.

She jumped the second she felt a hand on her waist. Her body was pushed to the side, the person trying to get by then easily walked past her. Her instincts kicked in and she realized someone was actually touching her. She grabbed the wrist of the hand and pushed it down, her nails scratching into skin. When she turned to scream at the stranger she assumed she’d see, her mouth went dry and her lips fell part, no words coming out. Harry gave her an irritated look, glancing down at his now scratched hand.

“You were in the way.” He told her loudly, forcing his voice over the music.

She swallowed gently. “I.. I didn’t know.”

Harry gave her a sarcastic gasp. “Obviously.”

Ivy wanted to be more confident in herself than she had managed to be all day, so she quickly gave it back to him. “You’re so rude.”

“Says the one who was in the damn way.” He lifted the corner of his mouth, amused by her comeback.

She rolled her eyes at him and turned back around, hoping to forget that he was there. There was an angry feeling sparking up in her gut. How could someone show such arrogance over a simple situation? She could have thanked him for moving her aside so she wouldn’t get shoved, but she figured he didn’t care about her gratitude. And more than that, he didn’t deserve it.

After another hour, the band had finished their set and everyone agreed that they’d stay a bit longer and enjoy the night. Some of the crowd had disappeared, leaving the place easier to navigate through, but it was still a good number of people around. Ivy went with Emma and Michelle to the bathroom, separating themselves from the others. They joined the short line that was waiting inside. Ivy let a deep breath push through her nose as her body leaned against the wall. She didn’t care about the sanitary conditions of the bathroom, she had other things on her mind.

Michelle took notice and gently nudged her. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and licked her lips quickly. “Nothing.. just got a little sick to my stomach earlier.”

“Do you feel sick?” Emma frowned back.

Ivy shrugged, even though she knew the feeling was more because of anxiety than sickness, she didn’t want to tell them what had happened. She was sure nobody noticed, they were all so distracted by everything going on around them. The less she talked about Harry, the easier it was to imagine it was all fake. She didn’t want him to be there, she didn’t want him to exist in her life, she didn’t want to keep those small moments alive in her mind. Why did he have to be walking behind her on the sidewalk, why was he so close to her while the band was playing, why did he care if someone pushed her over or not? Why was he so worried about her, and why did she let it bother her so much?

“No, I think I was just doing too much earlier.. with the dancing. I’m okay now.” She assured them with a quick smile.

“Okay, if you say so.” Emma didn’t seem to believe it, but she wasn’t going to stress her out by prying. “If you feel like you wanna leave.. let me know and we can head back.”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you, too, if you want.” Michelle reached up and casually pushed Ivy’s hair over her shoulder. “Especially if you feel sick.”

“Thanks.. but I’m pretty sure I’m okay right now.”

They didn’t have to wait very long to get into a stall. Once they were all done, they left the bathroom together. Ivy thought about stopping by the bar for some water, but she didn’t want to cause an inconvenience. Maybe one of the guys would offer to go to the bar for everyone and she could take advantage of that.

The girls made their way back to where they left Niall and Cory. Zayn and Alyssa had gone off to be on their own and Harry was nowhere around. Emma kept an eye on Ivy to make sure she wasn’t getting sick. She made sure to tell Niall that they might possibly have to leave earlier than planned if something happened. Ivy overheard them talking and she assured Niall she was fine.

It didn’t take long for Emma and Michelle to start moving to the music again. Emma grabbed Ivy’s hand and playfully shook her arm around, trying to get her to participate. She gave them a laugh and joined them, but she kept her feet grounded. The jumping was too intense earlier, she needed to stay more relaxed. The music playing through the speakers was good, they all seemed to enjoy it.

The chaotic scene of the club was enough to keep her mind off of things for a while. She swayed side to side to the music, occasionally grabbing onto Emma to belt out lyrics with her. After a while, the need for something to drink was weighing on her, making her throat dry and her head start to spin. Ivy tapped Emma’s shoulder to get her attention, she was talking to Niall about something as a slower song was playing.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going? Are you feeling bad?” Emma’s brows dropped and she frowned, instantly worried for her friend.

Ivy smiled and shook her head. “No, just thirsty.”

“Oh.. okay!”

Niall leaned closer so he could talk over all the noise. “Be careful.”

“I will. I’ll be right back!”

With a sigh, she walked off from them, heading towards the bar. As she made her way there, she let herself reflect on the night’s events. All the dancing and singing was so joyful and exciting, she was grateful for the fun experience. Everyone was getting along, nothing too crazy had occurred. Sure, she had a few incidents with Harry, but nobody else was a witness to them that she was aware of. Knowing that made it sort of easier to deal with. She didn’t have to worry about whether or not they would get irritated with her, too. She was glad the moments she had to share with him weren’t full of hateful comments or rude looks like the previous ones had been. He wasn’t necessarily the sweetest person tonight, but at least he was better than normal.

For once in her life, she actually felt like she belonged within a group. Those unsure worries about whether they liked her or not had faded. Most of them had proved they did enjoy her company, and she definitely enjoyed theirs. The dynamics of the group were so different, everyone had their own personality and somehow they all merged together well. Harry was sort of an outlier, but only when it came to Ivy. He was perfectly fine with everyone else.

When she finally got to the bar, she let out a sigh of relief. There was an open stool at the end and she gladly took it. The bartender noticed her and gave her a lift of his finger, indicating he’d be over to her in a minute. She just smiled back and waited patiently. She folded her hands on the bar, looking down at her painted nails. The red polish shifted colors beneath the colored lights.

Ivy covered her mouth as she yawned, a tired feeling creeping into her body. She knew she didn’t want to be the one to make everyone go back to the hotel early, so she’d just have to push through it and wake herself up. The bartender came over to her, smiling as he asked how he could help her. She asked for a cup of ice, an awkward confession of how she wasn’t feeling the best followed her request. He gave her a laugh and said he understood the feeling.

“It’s on me! Take care of yourself.” He said as he passed her the plastic cup full of ice cubes.

“Oh, thank you!”

Ivy twisted the stool around so that she could prop her elbow on the bar and look out at the dancing crowd. Some people were just standing around talking or laughing, but most of them were doing some form of dancing. She tipped the cup back, a piece of ice falling into her mouth. She let it sit on her tongue for a few moments, slowly melting as the warmth of her mouth engulfed it. The feeling was calming, she felt like she was recovering already. The plan was to sit for a few minutes and eat a couple pieces of ice, then she’d go back to where she left from.

When she finished her second piece, she reached into her purse to grab her lip gloss. She could feel the dryness of her lips and had to take care of that. Her phone acted as a mirror while she applied the gloss over her lips, fully coating each of them. She rubbed them together, then smiled at herself to make sure nothing spread past the line of her lips.

“You didn’t miss a spot.”

Ivy quickly pulled her phone down and turned her head, her eyes meeting those of a stranger. It was a man with dark hair, he was tall with broad shoulders. A smile shaped his mouth, a set of shiny white teeth popping out behind his lips.

She gulped gently and let out a slightly nervous laugh. “Yeah, I guess not.”

He let his eyes quickly roam over her body. She kept her stare on his face, watching every move he made closely. That anxious feeling she fought off so often was returning, but even she knew that it was for a real reason this time.

“Are you not drinking tonight?” He asked, nodding his head to the cup of ice. The question was posed in a way that made it seem like he knew her so well.. like he was surprised she wasn’t drinking.

She went along with it, just to prevent anything drastic from happening. “Um, taking a break for right now.”

“If you want to end that break, I could get a drink.” The cocky smirk he put on for her was not pleasing to her eyes.

Ivy sucked on the inside of her cheek for a moment as she glanced at her ice cubes. “I think my break will last the rest of the night.”

He gave her a very slow nod, his eyes moving away from her for the first time since he approached. He shifted his weight, looking past her at the person next to her on the stool. Maybe he thought she didn’t know that person, since it didn’t seem like she was making a point to give them any attention. A thousand thoughts started to fill her mind as she started to consider all the different ways this could play out. She took a mental note of what he was wearing, just in case. It was a burgundy collared shirt with a pair of dark wash, loose fitting jeans. He dressed like any other guy, which made him blend in too easily.

“So, are you here with someone?” He finally asked, lifting his brows as he moved his eyes back to her face.

She was quick to contemplate lying or not. If she said she was here with a man, and this person had been watching her, then he’d know that wasn’t true. If he just saw her at the bar and not any other time tonight, then maybe she could get away with it. The thing was, she didn’t know what he knew about her. She was nervous that he had been watching her and was waiting for an opportunity.

Ivy pushed down the lump in her throat and remained confident, not wanting him to see that she was becoming afraid. “With a group of friends, yeah.”

“Oh, friends?” He said, looking around at the people who clearly didn’t know her. Nobody had interacted with her since she got to the bar, aside from him.

“Yeah.” She kept her reply short and simple, hoping he’d get the point.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. He leaned closer to her, his hand reaching out to touch her waist. She stiffened on the stool, her back straight as she tried to keep her distance. His hand wasn’t gripping her tight, but it was definitely pressed against her.

“Let me get you a drink.” He said with a chuckle, trying to play like he was flirting but she knew it was something more dangerous.

She gently shook her head and lifted her hand between them. “No, thanks. I’m not.. drinking anymore.”

He gave her a look that made her skin crawl. “Don’t want to have some fun with me?”

“Um, I should.. get back to my friends.” She said with a fake smile, pushing against his chest to move him.

At first he didn’t budge, but after a moment he leaned back, his hand falling from her side. “C’mon, don’t be so uptight. Let me show you a good time.”

The very second he took a step back, she saw the opportunity to escape. Ivy slid off the stool, abandoning her cup of ice on the bar, and started hastily walking away. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw that he pushed himself off the bar and started walking in the same direction. Her stomach dropped as she quickly came to terms with what was happening. There was nothing she could do other than run through this crowd and make it to Emma.

Ivy darted her eyes around, trying to find familiar things she made sure to take notice of when she walked off. She had to find her way back somehow, but it seemed her tricks weren’t working. The anxiety flooding through her body was shielding her memory - she couldn’t think of anything else. Her lungs felt heavy as she pushed through the crowd, trying her best to find Emma or Niall or somebody she knew. Maybe she’d run across Zayn, she hadn’t seen him in a while. She was getting sick to her stomach, its contents threatening to come up.

She took another look behind her, and even through the people she moved past, she saw him. His eyes were scanning around, searching for her as she weaved through the dancing bodies.

The mix of colorful lights flashing all around the space was making it difficult for her to make out anything. She thought she was losing her mind, she couldn’t focus on anything. Strangers’ faces littered the room, she couldn’t find anyone she recognized. How long could she out run him? How big was this building? Would she be able to seek refuge in the women’s restroom or would he disregard any barriers and search for her there? Could she make it back to the front where the security guard was? Her feet were starting to feel weak as the worry spiraled in her mind. She was going to get hurt, she just knew it. The night had been going so well, something just had to ruin it like always.

Ivy suddenly broke through the edge of the crowd, making her stumble over her own feet. Her body shook with each desperate pant, her lungs trying so hard to stay strong. She twisted her head around, trying to find something to shelter herself. She saw no kind of doors to slip into, the restrooms were on the opposite side as was the entrance. She didn’t even know where she was.

Tears swelled in her eyes as she decided to keep walking, trying to throw him off her tracks. Maybe if she cut back into the crowd and went a different direction, she could lose him entirely. She nervously walked on the edge of the crowd, mumbling quiet excuse me’s that nobody heard. She kept her eyes on alert, trying to find one of the people she knew. It was like everyone had disappeared.

Ivy let out a delicate whimper as she felt tears slide down her cheeks. She was terrified to stop walking, to turn around. She feared he would be there to grab her again, and this time he’d force his way to what he wanted. She reached into her purse, digging out her phone to try and make a call to someone. She had one bar of service, and she wasn’t sure if the others had any at all. She tried to call Emma, but it went to voicemail as if her phone was dead. Her hand was shaking so hard she almost dropped her phone. She was so afraid that she completely thought over the idea of calling Niall. The phone ended up back in her purse, and her eyes moved over her shoulder.

Her stomach churned as she saw him further back. He had lost sight of her for a minute, and it caused their distance to grow. He was determined to find her, and she was absolutely horrified. She had never been in a situation like this. She almost always stayed with Emma when they went out. She never strayed away like that, especially in a place she’d never been to before.

Just as she was about to slip back into the sea of people, she spotted someone she recognized. Of course, it wasn’t the best option out of everyone she knew, but it was better than nothing. She quickened her pace and aimed straight for him. It was Harry, pulled away from the crowd with his hand on a woman’s hip. He was clearly occupied and enjoying the company he had. Ivy wasn’t necessarily focusing on what he was doing, but she saw how a smirk was stuck to his lips as he listened to whatever the woman was saying to him.

Ivy practically threw herself on him, her hands grabbing onto his arm instantly. The woman he was holding smacked her lips and said something to him, but Ivy didn’t care to listen. Harry tried to shake her off, and after a few seconds she let him go, but she didn't move away.

“Ha-Harry.” She choked on his name, quickly shooting her eyes over her shoulder to see if he was near.

“Go away.” Harry grunted, giving her an annoyed expression. He was still holding onto the woman, so he guided her a few feet away, trying to get away from Ivy.

“Harry.” She said his name again, this time louder.

The woman didn’t appear to like that he was attracting attention that wasn’t from her. She told him to forget it and rolled her eyes as she turned away from him.

“What the fuck do you want?” He threw his hands in the air as he moved to face Ivy, who he was very irritated by.

“Please just act like you know me for five minutes!” She whined out, her eyes pleading with him.

That’s when he noticed she was crying, but he was confused. “Huh?”

“Please!” She yelled back, her hand reaching up to grab onto his shirt. She didn’t even realize she was doing it.

Harry just stared at her a moment, then looked down to where she was fisting his shirt. “What’s wrong with you?”

“There’s.. there’s a guy following me and.. I’m scared.” She looked past her shoulder again, then quickly back to him. “Harry, please.”

He moved his eyes behind her, trying to see if he could figure out what she was looking at. “Following you? What happened?”

For the first time since they’ve met, she could tell he was sincere with his concern. He leaned his head down so he could hear her over the music. Her wet eyes looked over his features as she tried to gather her thoughts. Everything was happening so fast. His green eyes were softened as he fixed them on her, and his brows were furrowed as he waited for an answer. This is when she realized she was clutching his shirt. She nervously looked down at her hand, then released her grip on him. He didn’t say anything about it, just watched her closely.

“I.. I was at the bar.. by myself.. and this guy kept bothering me.” She explained in a broken voice, her eyes searching his face for something she wasn't even sure of. She was just trying to distract herself from what was going on. “I.. I walked off and he started following me.”

“Why the fuck were you by yourself?”

She huffed. “I don’t know! I.. I couldn’t find Emma or Niall or anyone.. I-I just saw you.”

Harry let out a sigh and let his eyes linger behind her again. “What’s he wearing?”

“He’s behind me, I know he is. I saw him.”

He glanced at her, wishing she would just tell him but he understood she was afraid. “Show me.”

Ivy nodded slowly and turned her head back, once again searching for his presence behind her. And immediately she saw him, he was looking around, walking slower with his hands stuck in his pockets. He had a snarl on his face, like he was pissed off that he lost sight of her again. When she returned her eyes to Harry, he furrowed his brows tighter. It was so easy to see how terrified the girl was. As much as he acted like he usually didn’t care about anything at all, he was taking this very seriously.

“Who is it?”

“The guy right there.. by the girl with the blue dress on.”

Harry easily saw who she was referring to. He had never been in the situation where he had to do this for one of his friends, but he was smart enough to figure out the obvious solution.

“Stay close to me, alright?” The way his hand curved to fit against her waist felt more natural than it was supposed to.

She kept her eyes on his chest, staring at the cross dangling from his neck. She wanted to melt into a puddle or shoot up through the ceiling, she wanted to disappear from this place. Not only was she terrified, but she was embarrassed by the way she reacted when she found Harry. She had interrupted whatever he was up to and fell against him like he was supposed to be a hero. Of course, that was now taking over her mind and the whole bar situation was gone from her focus. Harry easily took center stage in her mind..

He kept his eyes locked on the guy, he had gotten closer already. The natural instinct to protect was present, which led to his hand sliding to the small of her back as the guy locked eyes with him. He recognized the girl he had been chasing, he was familiar with her backside. Harry didn’t dare blink as the guy stared him down.

“Is.. is he.. gone?” Ivy’s head fell back to look at Harry. She was unaware of just how close they were. Their bodies were touching, her hands were lifted between them and gently brushing his abdomen as she waited for him to answer her. “Harry..”

The quiet chirp of his name made him dart his eyes down for just a second. She had stopped crying, but her eyes were puffy and her makeup was smudged on her skin. He felt bad for the girl, she hadn’t asked for any of this to happen. She was sure he hated her guts and didn’t want to be around her, but she was grateful he was keeping her close right now. Maybe he was good at pretending to care.

“Just be quiet right now.”

His choice of words wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but she didn’t have a choice. She let her eyes fall back to his chest, maybe she could distract herself with the ink that was peeking out from beneath his shirt. She wondered what else his body hid. Was he covered from shoulders to thighs, was his back inked, what about his legs?

Ivy let out a shriek all of a sudden. “Ow!”

Harry groaned as he realized his fingers were tangled in her hair. The rings stuck on his fingers were catching pieces of her hair. He pulled his hand back, taking a few pieces with him. She felt each strand that was being plucked from her scalp.

“Why the fuck is your hair so long?” He was frustrated now.

“Ow! Stop, that hurts!” She scooped her hair over her shoulder, trying to get it away from his fingers.

“Not my fault.” He huffed out, shaking his head in disbelief at their situation.

She went quiet again, not even moving as he returned his hand to her back. He was gentle with his touches, not wanting to scare her or make her uncomfortable especially since she’s been harassed already tonight. The guy had moved to the wall, his arms crossed as he pretended to not notice her. He gave them a glance every couple of seconds, trying to catch Harry off guard but it wouldn’t work. He wasn’t going to let Ivy slip away and get harmed, no matter how much he wanted her to leave him alone.

“He’s still staring at you.” Harry felt a sting in his chest as the guy licked his lips, his eyes attached to her body. “Did you say you were here alone?”

She hesitated at first to answer. “No.. I said I was with friends.”

“Did he touch you?” Harry asked the question the very moment she pushed her curled hands into his body, she was leaning against him.

For some reason, he was feeling extremely conflicted by all of this. Was he reacting so intensely because he knew the girl? If it were a stranger, would he be this focused on handling the issue and solving her problems, soothing her worries? He didn’t know how to feel about it, all he knew was that he was pissed off someone thought they could get away with this. He didn’t have much time to ponder it, the anticipation of her answer was driving him crazy. If she said yes, he feared he would have to slam the guy’s head into the wall.

“Like.. did he grope me?” Her voice finally broke out.

Harry licked his lips and carefully nudged her chin with the side of his index finger, pushing her head back so he could see her. “Did he touch you in any way, Ivy?”

He didn’t care if he just shook her hand, if her answer was yes he was going to lose his composure. Ivy couldn’t talk back, her heart was too busy pounding in her chest. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, the sound of her name being spoken in his voice was foreign to her. She was absolutely sure that he had never said her name before, never mumbled it or even said it in front of her to someone else. Harry softened his hard stare and withdrew his touch from her chin.

“Answer me, please.” He gave her a stern lift of his brows, silently instructing that she do what he said.

She quickly nodded. “Yes.. he touched my waist.”

Harry clenched his jaw and shot his gaze to the guy who was in the same spot, as if he was waiting for her to be set free so he could take her for himself. He moved his hand to her waist and slightly squeezed her, and of course she noticed it. Her stomach filled with butterflies as he leaned even closer down to her level, even her heels didn’t make her tall enough for him.

“Stay right here. Do not move, do you understand me?” He spoke calmly, hoping that she would just listen to him.

“Yes.. I understand.” Ivy’s voice was as light as a feather.

He wasn’t too surprised that her bright, outgoing personality had fallen to such a fragile demeanor. He witnessed it at the restaurant when she grew so shy in front of him, how hesitant and timid she could get..

“Don’t move.” He repeated.

Harry dropped his arm from her body and took a step forward, but she quickly grabbed his wrist and jumped in front of him. He looked down at her with knitted brows.

“Wait! What if.. someone else..” Her voice trailed off as the endless possibilities began to fill her mind.

Harry didn’t let her stop him, though. He shewed her hand back and gave her some reassurance. “Nobody will touch you. Stay right here.”

Ivy rotated just so she could keep her eyes on Harry. The last thing she wanted was to get separated again. She bit down on her cheek as she watched Harry walk up to the guy. She saw his mouth moving, but had no clue what he was saying. Nobody cared to look at them, everyone was just dancing and minding their own business. Harry took a step closer, his height was even to the man who had chased her through the crowd.

She felt her hands shaking by her sides as Harry obviously became heated. He was yelling now, pointing his finger at the man like he was scolding a child. Ivy was curious to know what he was saying. Was he throwing threats out and telling him how shitty it was to be that way towards someone? Was he telling him he’d beat the hell out of him if he looked her way again? A thousand thoughts flew to her mind, but none were strong enough to distract her from Harry. She gasped, throwing her hand over her chest as she watched Harry shove the guy into the wall, but he withdrew hands clearly not wanting to fight.

What she didn’t know was that Harry was telling him that if he saw him look her way one more time, he’d beat the absolute hell out of him. He made sure to mention specific ways he could bury his fist into the guy’s body and face, how he could break his nose or knock a few teeth out. His ultimate goal was to terrify the guy just as much as Ivy was. Harry gave him one last push into the wall before walking away.

Her pulse increased rapidly as he quickly rejoined her, his hand reaching for her waist as a way to guide her. His skin was flushed from the yelling, his body tense and his chest tight. He was angry, more angry than Ivy had ever seen him. The look on his face beat out any irritated expression or rude glance he’d ever given her.

“C’mon.” He grumbled out, reaching down to grab her hand.

The butterflies in her stomach grew to the size of dragons as she felt his warm skin against hers. Now wasn’t the time to swoon over him, though. This was a more serious situation that she had a dire need to escape from. Harry didn’t give her any other choice, he started walking and yanked her behind him.

They navigated their way to the entrance, Harry leading her like a lost puppy through the crowd. He wasn’t being polite in any way, of course. He was ramming his shoulder into people as he walked past them and pushing past stubborn ones who wouldn’t move at all. Ivy stayed close behind him, her hand clutching his for dear life. He didn’t return her strong grip, he just allowed her to hold on to him so she wouldn’t get lost again. He had never had anyone hold his hand as tight as this girl was. It sort of amazed him, her strength was probably from the fear, but it impressed him. He’d never tell her that.

When they finally reached the entrance and made it outside, Ivy felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The breeze began to blow her hair around, the cool wind covered her skin in bumps. She felt like she had freedom for the first time. There were no more crowds, no suffocating people with sweaty skin and loud screams. There was no intense shaking of the ceiling and floor from the loud music, no more chaos..

Harry walked her away from the entrance. When he stopped and turned to face her, he felt an odd feeling in his chest. She still had a pout on her thick lips, tear stained cheeks, and wide eyes. He exhaled, licking over his lips as he stared at her for a moment longer. Finally, he released her hand and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Ivy felt a wave of nausea. It was more intense than what she experienced earlier in the night. Now that she was out in the open, able to fully comprehend everything that happened, she was feeling her body’s reaction to the anxiety. She pressed her hand over her stomach, groaning as she felt something come up her throat.

She turned away from Harry, not wanting him to witness her empty her stomach. It was coming, she could literally feel it.

“Hey, look we have a problem.” She heard his voice as he spoke to Niall on the phone, but this time it wasn’t enough to distract her..

Ivy swatted her hair over her shoulder just in time. She leaned over and started throwing up. She didn’t have time to be embarrassed. It came quickly, everything she had consumed throughout the day was out of her system. She let out a quiet grunt and wiped her hand over her mouth. The only good thing was that now she felt much better.

Harry had told Niall a brief summary of what happened, and said that it would be best if someone takes her back to the hotel. Niall said he would round everyone up and they would all leave. Ivy didn’t care what was being said on the phone, she was just staring off at nothing. Her stomach was starting to relax now, recovering from what it just went through.

“Are you alright?” Harry came up behind her, but he didn’t reach for her like he had easily done earlier. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries she had.

“Yeah.” She mumbled while twisting around to face him. “I think so.”

“First you almost break your ankle.. then you try to get drugged at the bar. How do you make it on your own?” He questioned, unable to believe that she was capable of surviving.

“I’m sorry.” She uttered out, her voice as soft as a feather. She nervously folded her arms on her chest and looked down at her feet. She felt ashamed.

“Stop apologizing.”

Ivy furrowed her brows, but kept her eyes locked on the ground. “What do you want me to say then?”

“I don’t know.”

For a second, she was just going to ignore him and go mute until Emma made it to her, but something changed. She felt that usual sense of confidence and sass enter her body. The memory of what happened at the bar that night replayed in her mind. She defended herself, but soon after the worrying began. Ivy didn’t want to worry about him anymore. He had this power over her she wanted to destroy.

“Almost tripping is one thing, but I didn’t ask to get harassed.” Her voice was at a normal level now, her tone mimicking the rude one he usually gave her. “Don’t you dare say it’s my fault.”

Harry huffed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sounded like it.”

He pushed his hand through his hair, tugging back the long locks. “I didn’t say it was your fucking fault.”

“That’s your favorite word, isn’t it? Fuck this, fuck that, fuck everything!” She yelled back, her hands balled into fists by her side now.

He scoffed at her. “Are you trying to offend me? I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m trying to treat you like you treat me!”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Ivy could explode from the anger she was feeling. “You’re a terrible person!”

Harry let out an unamused laugh and threw his arms up. He walked off, shaking his head in disbelief, but he didn’t go far. He turned to face her again, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be drugged in the back of someone’s fucking car right now. I think that’s me treating you fucking nicely.”

She could hardly believe she was actually arguing with him and holding her own. He used to be so intimidating and unapproachable, but not anymore. There was no more shyness or fear filling her veins. She was angry and she wanted to get it all out.

“Don’t act like you’re an angel. You treat me like you hate me! You don’t even know me.” She fired back, steam rolling out of her ears.

Harry looked towards the front entrance in time to see Niall and the others walking out, their eyes searching for them. He wanted to say more to her, but he didn’t have the time. He didn’t want anyone to overhear this conversation.

“If I hated you, I would’ve let you get hurt tonight.”

Ivy parted her lips to speak, but Emma’s voice calling out her name stopped her. Harry backed up when everyone came running up to her. He didn’t want to overplay his part. It was all quickly pushed aside.

“Ivy! Oh my god, are you okay?” Emma embraced her in a tight hug, squeezing her tight.

“I’m okay, yeah.” She breathed out, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I shouldn’t have let you go alone, I’m so sorry.”

“Emma, no.” Ivy pulled back and took hold of both of her hands. “Don’t say that.”

It was obvious that Emma wanted to cry, but she was trying to hold back the tears. The second Niall told her what happened, she felt her heart shatter. Something happening to her friend was never a good thing to think about.

Niall reached over and touched her elbow. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.. I.. threw up over there, but I’m okay.”

Emma moved to let Michelle hug her, and she quickly walked to where Harry stood. He gave her a smile when she thanked him for being there for Ivy. He didn’t say much back, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. He felt as though he didn’t do that much, really. He was just in the right place at the right time. He got her away from the guy before anything could happen. As much as he tried to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal, he was glad he was there when she needed it most.

—•—

During the night, Ivy experienced a few unsettling dreams that woke her up from her sleep. One of them was so intense that she had to get up and stand by the air conditioner, cooling her flushed face and trying to relax her body. She slept horribly. She would bet she didn’t even get three full hours. Despite it being a bad night, she didn’t wake up Michelle or call Emma to bother her. She thought about it, but she had already done so much that she believed put a damper in the trip, she didn’t want to ruin anything else.

The morning in the hotel was a lot better. She felt less stressed once she was able to get some socialization. Emma and Alyssa had came into the room to have some girl time before they all had to get ready. They didn’t have any big plans for Saturday, but there were some things everyone wanted to do. Zayn, Alyssa, and Michelle decided to go on a historic tour of a house they all found interesting while the others chose to stroll through the downtown area. Ivy had mentioned something about an art gallery she found while searching up things to do in the area. Emma was intrigued with it, so she forced Niall to go along with her. Cory and Harry tagged along, too.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Ivy let her eyes wonder in the shop windows. There was an antique store that she found interesting, perhaps she’d suggest they swing by it before they leave the area. There was a small cafe that pumped the smell of fresh baked sweets out onto the street. It was a quaint area, she found it very lovely.

When they got to the gallery, they sort of went their separate ways. Niall and Emma walked hand in hand as they observed the displayed work. Ivy decided to walk on her own. There were a variety of artists who were being showcased at the gallery. The information pamphlet they were each given when they first came in listed details about the artists. Ivy read over the paragraphs of each artist. She was very much in her element while being here. This was one of her favorite things to do. She turned the corner into the next room and quietly swallowed as she saw that Harry was the only one occupying the room.

She tried to keep her footsteps light so she wouldn’t be a disturbance. He appeared to be very focused by the painting he was standing in front of. His arms were behind his back, his hand holding onto his other wrist. He leaned forward to get a better look at the piece, but he maintained a respectful distance.

As she got closer, she could hear him mumbling to himself. She tried to ignore it as she looked at the adjacent wall’s pieces. The artist displayed in this room was more of a contemporary abstract artist. This wasn’t necessarily her favorite category of art, but she was appreciative of the person’s creativity and craft. She strolled by the collection, admiring the striking colors and shapes, but not focusing as much on a singular piece as someone was.

She hadn’t realized how close she was to Harry until she heard him more clearly. A smile toyed on her lips at his comment.

“That’s an interesting color choice. I wouldn’t do that.”

Ivy didn’t want to scare him, though she was sure he knew someone was in here even if he didn’t know it was specifically her. She took a breath and decided to be polite to him, instead of doing everything in her power to ignore his existence.

“Do you critique often?”

Harry turned his head towards her, not realizing she was speaking to him at first. He didn’t respond, just gave her a momentary stare. There was a desire inside of him that craved to burst out - he wanted to talk to her. It was difficult because he knew she didn’t like being around him. Their first impressions of each other didn’t go well, and nothing since seemed to work out either. So, he shifted his stare back to the painting.

Ivy wasn’t surprised at all by him, yet she didn’t want to give in to his game. Based on how intensely focused he was, she believed he wouldn’t behave in an aggressive way in the gallery. Now if they were elsewhere, he might would tell her to fuck off, that’s his favorite word after all..

“What’s the interesting choice you don’t like?” Her voice distributed the silence again, making him set his jaw. He wanted to be alone.

Harry studied the side of her face as intensely as he did the painting. He wondered what was on her mind. The blue of her eyes sparkled under the bright lights above them. Her lips were set in a very subtle smile as she read over the paragraph about the artist. He shifted his eyes back to the piece.

“The bright orange. It wouldn’t have been my pick.” He finally stated.

“Do you paint?”

Her quick reply made him softly sigh. He didn’t really want to conversate with her, but he purposely chose no other option.

“No, not at all. Just an observer.”

Ivy nodded slowly, opting to not say anything. She admired the painting for a few minutes, curious to know what his thoughts were. How did he interpret the piece? There were no purposeful shapes or patterns, it was completely random and abstract. Did he find anxiety in that like she did, or was he the kind of person who could understand and feel abstractness? She assumed he would walk away if she asked anything like that, so she didn’t. Instead, she reverted to the thought she’s had all day. As much as she wanted to forget last night, it was impossible.

“Thanks for last night.” She spoke a bit louder this time.

Harry smirked to himself, she didn’t catch it. “Did we do something I don’t remember?”

His cocky attitude was nothing new, and she just rolled her eyes at him. Maybe that was his way of being friendly, by sort of being a jackass with his comments. She didn’t know him well enough to decide if that was true. She was leaning more towards ‘he’s just a dick’.

“I’m serious, Harry. Thanks for helping me.” She said through a deep breath, her eyes falling from the painting. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged lightly. “Don’t mention it.”

“And I’m sorry for being mean to you about it. I was just overwhelmed.”

She didn’t expect him to turn towards her. She copied his movements, not sure what was next. Was he going to be nice to her for once? It was more likely that he’d snap at her. Her heart started to beat faster than normal.

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s over now. Don’t thank me and don’t apologize. You like apologizing when you don’t need to.”

Although his words were harsh, she was sort of grateful that his tone was normal. He spoke to her like he knew she was human. All she gave him in return was an understanding nod. When he rotated himself to face the painting again, she made the decision to leave him alone. She left the room and moved onto the next one. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk to her about anything, so there was no need to keep trying.

[a/n: I have been waiting forever to post this part of the series. Things are moving along now, we’re building that drama and suspense (I hope). thanks for being patient with the slow burn, it’ll be worth it I promise! More to come soon! part 5 will be like 3 where it’s necessary for the plot line. 6 and on will be juicy!! Reblog, like, tell me how you feel in the comments! <3]

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 4 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown n @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 7 @lizsogolden @prettygurl-2009 @sincerely-yours-marsbar r @boopookie @mypolicemanharryyy @angelbunny222 @mads3502 @harrysredroom @inlikea-coolway @matildasatellite @imaginexxharry

[lacyscabinet]

reader and ellie williams dating and reader meeting joel for the first time

A/N: HELLO THERE! This is not my best work but stilllllll I wanted to post something, not proofread<3 I'm a little late sorry😞 this was supposed to come out yesterday but I fell asleep on my desk and forgot to press post😭😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 begging on my knees for forgiveness, I hope you enjoy<3

NAVIGATION

VERY SHORT. MORE LIKE A BLURB.

TW: DAD JOKES.

MEETING JOEL

Joel. It's just Joel. Ellie talked about him so much it's almost like you know him already, come on, how hard could it possibly-

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks, placing a hand on your shoulder while simultaneously cleaning it from the snow that had settled on your jacket as you two stood outside the porch. It's not like she wasn't at least a little nervous as well, she really wanted her two worlds to blend, and she wasn't completely sure about what Joel's reaction would be, after all, she has never brought someone like you around him before.

"Yes..." You look up at her and smile gently, trying to be brave about this "All good, should we...knock?"

Ellie nods as she keeps her arm around your waist as she walks up the porch, then her bruised and cold knuckles bump against the worn down wooden door, patiently waiting for someone to open it.

Soon enough, a bearded man cracked the door open, a smile plastered on his face as he welcomed you guys into his home. The house was warm, a record muffled by the sound of the crackling fireplace played on his old record player, the dinner table was all ready to sit down and eat whatever he had cooked, and considering the warm scent that floated through the house, it must've been something tasty. He hugs Ellie once he closes the door, and then turns back to you.

"Finally putting a face to the name!" He says, his voice doesn't sound judgmental at all and he introduces himself right after, extending his hand to shake yours.

All throughout, you can feel Ellie's eyes on you, she's probably smiling, watching you two interact and praying that everything will go the right way. Ellie knows he’s been through enough with the world falling apart, and letting someone new into his circle isn’t easy, but so far, everything was going amazingly.

Just as predicted, dinner was amazing: Ellie sat right next to you while Joel stood in front of you, asking questions about you, about your relationship with Ellie. She subtly checks in with you, just a glance, or a quick touch of your hand to reassure you that she’s there. Her thumb runs over your knuckles, soft and comforting, as if to say: “I’ve got this.” You’re still a little nervous meeting Joel, but the feeling of Ellie beside you is grounding, and he has been nothing but kid with you so far. Everything was flowing seamlessly, until...

"Hey girls, listen" he said all of a sudden as he stabbed a carrot with his fork. Ellie looked up at him curiously, her hand resting on your thigh under the table.

"Do you guys want to know my favorite animal?"

Both you and Ellie looked at each other, extremely confused. Lightly chuckling at your reaction, he continued "Before the outbreak, I remember really liking axolotls..."

At that, your and Ellie's confusion only grew wider, while on the other hand, he started grinning, and that's when Ellie realized.

A dad joke was on the way.

"I used to really like them because they were quiet animals, they didn't axolotl questions"

A moment of silence followed as you took in the joke, bursting out laughing a few seconds later, not really because the joke was funny, but more because of the proud smile on his face and Ellie's maroon flushed face.

“You’re gonna scare her off if you keep making jokes like that.” she mumbled as her hands came up to hide her face.

Maybe, in the end, this wasn't as intimidating as it seemed...

Tags!! @livvietalks (another person asked me to be tagged but for some reason it doesn't work 😭) + @autisticintr0vert :)!!! thank u for the support pookies! In case I post something else tonight I'll tag u over there too!!

I've never thought about starting a taglist but if anyone is interested let me know in the comment section! I also write for yellowjackets and (soon!! trust!!!) for arcane 🤍

[mapleandgingeroatmeal]

Alright! Rosie got the last one. Now it’s my turn. 

First off, credit where credit's due, I actually agree with you on the origin comic for the most part. Adding that first traumatic return to the backstory really undercuts the catharsis of the moment Veth finally returns to Yeza in Xhorhas and he embraces her unconditionally after all the built up tension of not knowing if he was going to, imo. This is the last place we agree unfortunately.

However, I have to tell you that nobody was actually misunderstanding you before. They got what you were saying, they just disagreed with it. It is such a gross misreading of the text to say that there is something fundamentally similar about how the two of them left their respective children behind. Sure they both did, but beyond that surface-level detail every piece of context that comes after is nearly opposite. Liliana made her own independent  choice to leave a place of safety, love, and security to fulfill her own needs without her child. Veth was kidnapped and tortured and in a moment of extreme duress made the ultimate sacrifice to allow her child to escape without her.

The “Hag thing” (and GOD I can’t believe we’re re-litigating this again) does not actually prove anything about Veth accept that she’s human and experiences temptation. She didn’t take a violent action. She thought about it briefly and experienced extreme guilt immediately afterwards. If anything, that proves how deeply UNLIKE Liliana she is. When presented with a very similar choice to knowingly sacrifice potentially hundreds of lives for the sake of solving her immediate personal problem, Veth makes the opposite choice that Liliana does. She prioritizes the safety of the world. She does so a SECOND time with Halas in the happy fun ball in fact. Don’t you think Liliana would have made both of those deals in a heartbeat?  

The argument that Veth should have done more to be immediately at her husband and son’s side feels to me to be deeply rooted in this very misogynistic idea that to be the best mother possible a woman must be entirely present with her whole self for a child no matter what. What do you think would have happened, comics aside, if Veth had come home as a goblin to a town that hated the way she looked? Would You have just hid her in the basement for the rest of her life? And Luc was with the goblins too, you know. Would you want her to try and parent him using the face of the creatures who tortured and starved him? It would have done nothing but retraumatize both of them. There was never really any choice there. She made every effort she could to parent from a distance, anyway; remember the first act she makes once she has some real money in Zedash is to send it home to Luc. She also works her hardest, as you even said, to do everything in her power to get herself back as soon as possible. Would you rather her sitting meekly at home hiding in the basement, living a life of fear and secrecy, in a body she hates, hoping that some day her husband or someone else will wander by and save her?

I don’t even know what to say about the parenting stuff. Is she a dreadful parent because sometimes she goes and does other things? Because she’s not quiet and gentle and sweet with Luc? Because she’s occasionally honest about how difficult and exhausting parenting a traumatized teenager can be, especially if you have an indulgent streak out of guilt after missing years of his childhood to tragedy and circumstance? Because if you think those things make you a dreadful parent than I’m telling you now that more than half the moms in this world are going to deeply disappoint you. 

If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤

[kivino]

MEANT FOR EACH OTHER || ZOMBIE AU || KÖNIG X READER || PART I

sum. A deep-seated paranoia takes hold of you. Every hour of the day, you feel like you’re being watched. Followed. And you’re not wrong. So observant, so beautiful and perfect, but always dismissed by your group, left behind, not paid even a sliver of attention. How tragic. It’s okay though. König is here to do right by you. F̶̖̓͆̕͝o̷̢͚̲̬̍͠r̶͖̝̾̊̍̾e̸͔͇̣̓̈̊̾v̶̛͚͕́͗͝e̷̤̻͔͎̅̑̽r̴̝̬̩̘͒̒̃ ̴͔͆͋̈͝ȃ̷̢̭̯n̶̡̜̫͚̉̌̊̒ḍ̷̩̲̹͝ ̷̖̔͌͘ả̶̡̬̥͊l̶͕̇̓̄w̴̺̥̋̂͠ä̷̢̢̝́̒͗y̴̳̦̙̕ŝ̶͕̋̀.̵̝̱͒̌̅̆

tags. zombie au (twdg inspired), stalking, obsessive behavior, themes of paranoia, fear, distrust, isolation  

w.c. 2.7k

a.n. i had a post about this fic quite some time ago, but only got to finishing this fic right about now. it’s my bad, folks! still, i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! let me know your thoughts and like and reblog, please!

jjk masterlist || cod masterlist || ao3 link to this fic || ko-fi

You were not okay. Unstable. Dangerous to the group. That’s what you kept hearing every time you would try to speak up about your worries. “Help your fellow man” your ass. Delusional assholes, all of them, you thought, after having to endure this torture that appeared endless. Constant paranoia eating away at you, piece by piece, making you look over your shoulder more than look straight ahead, forcing your sleep to become so light you’d wake up from the slightest shifts of your companions dosing off in the tents beside yours. Or from the wind rattling the rusted metal sheets on the roof of the abandoned storage house you camped out in. You felt exhausted which was no less shitty than being unheard. Or, rather, straight up ignored.  

It’s been weeks…months of it? You weren’t quite sure anymore. You had trouble tracking the days at this point in time, any disruption turning you into a likeness of a jittery rabbit – head on a swivel, ready to dart at the merest visible sign of this…unknown and incomprehensible danger. So naturally, days blended into nights, and nights would smother themselves in-between the days, and there was no end to it. At times, anything felt as a sign of some foreign, unfamiliar and very unwelcome presence. The whole world ending, shriveling away into a primitive, disconnected and scattered realm of endless violence was bad enough, but then there was something else…You weren’t quite sure what started out this deep terror within you. But you just knew, after bumping into someone’s empty, but clearly frequently used hideout in a dingy, and frankly, nasty motel, nothing has been the same.

Stretches of makeshift barbed wire across all the fences and, in places, even the ground, where the passage wasn’t interrupted by wrecked cars forming a barricade in front of the dark building with the windows boarded up shut. As you approached the place, you swore you could hear a low purr of a generator and smell the fuel, heavy in the air, and thick on your tongue. However, the place, though well protected, seemed to be deserted. Not a sign of a human presence from a quick glance. A lawn chair on the second floor of the motel, right behind a study looking railing with the paint rubbed off in the center, however, threw you off a little bit, as well as the doors, either locked, or boarded up shut from the inside. No bodies, no signs of fight or struggle, very little blood, while the place itself was locked up so tight you’d think a herd of was mere hours away from reaching it. Who’d put so much effort into making this motel a fortress, only to then abandon it, since there were no bodies that would suggest an attack from the walkers, or a raid from a fellow man.

Things clearly didn’t line up and you didn’t like that. Your group, however, didn’t bother with technicalities and nuance. Safe place was a safe place, end of story. Having nothing to offer in terms of resources – apart from a couple of already ransacked vending machines, the motel was quickly moved on from after the group spent the night. Since no one managed to get a single door, but the one leading to the laundry room of the dreary place open, the decision was made to sleep in the tents within the barricaded parking lot. “You’re welcome to freeze your ass off outside the fence, if you’d like, love, I couldn’t give two shits” – grumbled Rory, a woman in her thirties, who was clearly not having your cautious behavior. You were more than sure that she probably had to sleep in places much colder and dangerous than this dirty godforsaken motel, so you let it go. That night was the last night of undisturbed and calm sleep you’ve had before the unrest took hold.

You haven’t told anyone (as if that would change anything, your mind adds with palpable bitterness), but you swore there was something at that motel. Always conveniently just out of the corner of your eye, avoiding you so well you were ready to scream in frustration at the lack of substantial evidence for your suspicions. A giant, hulking shadow, faster than your reaction speed. A suspicious, bright glint from stuffy darkness of a boarded-up window. A loose stretch of a chain-link fence with dull grass crushed underneath. But then, why would it be? Unless it pinned the lifeless blades of greenery to the ground while sliding out (or in) below the fence.  

Of course, without outright noticeable evidence it was just that. It. But you were just scared to admit that this shapeless, inexplicable “It" you kept in your thoughts day and night, waking up and going to bed with an insistent tremble in your chest and shaky hands, was someone. That this “It” would suddenly develop a form, a conscience. Then, a goal. You didn’t like that. Not in the slightest. Frankly, who would like the phantoms that reside in their mind to suddenly become real? Nobody. And definitely not fucking you.

Regardless of your limitless turmoil and anxiety, non-stop coiling within your gut, you had to wake up. Stirring awake in your stuffy, hot tent, you don’t waste any time finding a zipper on the cheap rainproof fabric and dragging it down, to let some (relatively) fresh air inside, letting your lungs enjoy it while it lasts. Your group of seven has already been obviously busy; you can hear some chatter and clacking of pots over the fire in the middle of the camp. Didn’t even wake you up? Odd. You’ll take it though. An extra hour of sleep is better than none.

You shuffle towards the opening in your tent, your hand snaking towards the half-empty backpack, laying on its side right in your reach. Empty-minded, you let your fingers pick at a bunch of zippers and clasps, while rubbing your eyes off the scarce leftover sleep. Your hand, much like a lithe spider finally gets inside the backpack to pull a sweatshirt out, until you hear a clear, almost deafening crunch of plastic in the morning quiet.

You can feel the blood in your veins turn to ice.

The hand snakes deeper inside, trying to get a feel of this plastic package that was definitely not there last night, before you went to sleep. Finally, you fish out multiple packs of ramen from your belongings and you sit there for a moment, in silence that only you can comprehend.

None of your group store their food in their personal backpacks. You included. Nobody went on any supply runs this week. And you definitely don’t remember ever having problems with sleepwalking. Your head finds its way into your hands. There “It” is again. You’re on the verge of hysteria. And even if your try to say something, it’s going to be the same song, all over again.

“You’re overthinking simple things.”

“Maybe you put it there before, but just…forgot about it?”

“What does it matter anyway? You’ve got more food to last you, would you stop being hung up over nothing?”

Same things, same voices, same thoughts. You were sick of it. Utterly and completely.

Finally!

You found it!  König could feel a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as you took out the gift he so carefully placed in the bag during the night. Sneaking around the other tents, careful with every step, suffocated with anticipation and worry. Now he had the perfect view of you from the shattered roof window of the storage house, which couldn’t have made the moment any better. Setting up this vantage point was his best decision yet…Apart from deciding to trail behind you, tagging along until your useless group members make the slightest mistake that will cost them their life. And then, König will be able to swoop in, finally help you openly, get you to join him (because why wouldn’t you? Your refusal was not even a possibility in his mind). The mere thought sent shivers of excitement down his body, sweet and languid. He couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of peeking out from behind the window once again, tilting his head ever so slightly, so his dark hood is not too visible over the vivid backdrop of the winter sky – off-grey and dull, much like a dirty slush that was this year’s snow, resting in a thick, melting blanket over the dark earth.

His eyes are zeroed in on you, squinting through the bright light penetrating even the dull clouds hanging over the earth and he could just feel the familiar, loving tremble in his chest when he sees you taking out his little surprise from your bag. It would seem that you’re lost for words – clutching your poor little head in your hands, mulling over who it might be from. Or maybe you’re already drowning in despair, deep in the realization that no one from your group can protect you properly, if someone was able to sneak into the camp in the middle of the night. Yes! Yes… König couldn’t have asked for a better reaction.

This…utter distress you were displaying, fanned the flames within him like no other person ever managed to, even before the world has ended. Frankly, anything you did would set off this insistent, lasting spark deep within his chest, burning König up from inside out, until it felt like he was smoldering if his eyes couldn’t catch a glimpse of you for too long. His insides would churn with an unknown, heavy feeling, it almost felt like he was drowning in a bog, being dragged down in the depths of his mind with little to no resistance. Only catching a glimpse of you helped to stop that feeling. So, keeping away just wasn’t an option. Never was. Never will be. And how could it ever be, if even in his restless dreams he searched for you, while every waking thought revolved around you. How determined he was to see his plan through, how desperate for the closer presence of your light in his life, finally being able to bask in it without your disgusting group getting in the way.

König never thought the accidental encounter at the motel he’s been holed up in would end up in him packing up everything he had to follow your useless group. You. You were the first living soul he’s seen up close since the world started falling apart so rapidly. It awakened something he completely forgot about in the months he hasn’t seen any people. The newfound hope.

Your carefree smile near the bonfire first confused him. How can you be happy and laugh the way you did when nothing around you was in its original state – shattered, broken, locked, rotten, spoiled or otherwise; when he the danger was around the corner, lurking just out of reach, ready to pounce and consume the measly, weak remains of humanity any time. Nothing to smile about for him. Despite his initial, less than generous assumption about your mental abilities and level of intelligence, you proved more cautious and careful than any people from your group. Stupid jackasses, satisfied with the surface-level search. How pathetic.

It would be such a pleasure to finally get rid of them. Give them all that they deserved. Every blow, every bite and every scratch. But not from him, sadly. He has to be even more careful, so you don’t have any basis to even assume König had anything to do with their deaths. He’ll…nudge them in the direction of death, but he will not be the deliverer of justice. As much as he wished he could.

Not you, though. Oh, never you. That day, as König peeked from the darkness of the motel room around him, through tiny slits in the dusty curtains that obscured everything behind the wooden boards he hammered in himself, you seemed like you started figuring something out, looking over the spots of the motel he most often frequented. Almost like you could feel or see his presence there, only hours ago.

Carefully, but nonchalantly walking around vending machines, the good spot overlooking the front gate and the parking lot with König’s chair on the second-floor balcony, his sleeping spot on warm nights, in a bed of a pickup truck, and finally, attempting to open the room where the man would sort through the supplies he had. When he was completely shrouded in darkness of said supply room, it felt like you could see right through it, like you caught sight of him through the dirty glass window. Your narrowed eyes, suspicion-ridden expression, laced with fear at the same time that he glimpsed at before tearing himself away from the handmade peephole in a manner too reluctant and terrified for him.

There and then, leaned on a wall with his breath short and face burning up under the hood that obscured his face, König realized. You shared a connection, deeper than any. You must be. How easily you picked apart each of the places that belonged to him, like you felt with your whole being the dark, smudged stains of his presence left behind, how observant you were, it couldn’t have been a simple lucky guess, he was sure of it. You were meant for each other. Yes, yes, that’s it! The world fell apart, but it was always supposed to happen, you would find each other no matter what. The thought, for the first time in many, so many months filled to the brim with blood, gore, loneliness and hunger filled him with comfort.

That was what drew him in, there was nothing easy or outright understandable about you to König. He didn’t mind, though. You were meant for each other, that was all that mattered. He would bathe the world in blood if it meant you’ll be there to find way into his arms. He’ll protect you, just like the comfort from the smallest glimpse of your charming self protected him from the darkness that caged him in for so long. Only König can protect you. You just didn’t know it yet.

Of course, he realizes that his attempts might be too…forward for you, but it was for the best. He was doing it for you only, for your wellbeing, and no one else’s. Of course, he could be much more discreet, yet instead König chose to be meticulous with how he approached leaving behind signs of his presence. It was charming and so, so endearing, how quickly you picked up on the smallest traces left by him, how your brows would knit together in careful consideration, piecing together every clue given to you by König’s generous hand. Like a conversation between only the two of you. König had to let you know that your savior, your protector is coming. He wasn’t worried about you pointing out things left by him to your group; figures that they would choose to ignore it – it wasn’t meant for them.

König cherished every expression, every tiny reaction you gave to the smallest traces of his presence, keeping them hidden, locked away in his mind, recalling every and each one while lulling himself to a sleep that was sure to bring more dreams of you. The man savored them like there was nothing better than seeing your eyes widen in horror, hand clasping over your mouth to contain a loud scream of terror, as you stumble across a large, neatly stacked pile of festering, unmoving walkers that just a day ago creeped upon the camp, with no one from your group noticing, as expected. Of course, König could easily dispose of the whole pile elsewhere, burn them, bury them, or dismember them until there was nothing but rotten mincemeat left on the ground, but he wanted to send another message, by leaving the bodies for his beloved to find. Just so you’ll know, he’ll do anything to keep you safe. Anything to keep you all to himself.

Or when the shuffling within you tent momentarily stop after he would intentionally snap a twig with his full weight while doing a round through your camp, intent on putting another food item in your bag. Clearly you took notice of someone lurking through the camp, but didn’t dare to check what was the noise you heard. How cute. König needed you to know that you won’t go hungry with him either – he’ll give away the last he has for you to last longer. The world will have a little more light with you in it, rather than with him.

König also knew you could see his shadow from the corner of your eye at times. Those days, he was intentionally being sloppy, allowing himself more and more of the simple, invigorating pleasures of taking in your beauty just a few more seconds before ducking behind the thick trunks, scattered bushes or a corner. His blood would come to a boil almost instantly, the hood that usually allowed for normal breathing would soon become suffocating for him, and his hands would start to tremble until his teeth would find a way to bite into his flesh, flashes of pain searing the incredibly joy the image of you gave him.

It was hard to wait. So hard to not act on his deep-seated, loving urges and finally take you all for himself, like it should be. Like it was meant to be. Every day without you in his arms felt more and more like torture, hours ticking away with him wasting himself out of your embrace he craved so restlessly. Anything seemed to remind him of you, pulling along the slow realization that you were not there to ease his heavy mind out of the instability that threatened to spill over in destructive, bloody violence. It was worse than bad. König needed you. So wholly and desperately he couldn’t exist or function in the way he was used to.

Soon. He’ll set everything in motion very soon. König already started carrying over all his stuff and equipment from the roof to a camp he put together carefully, a safe distance away from this storage house. You’ll need a safe place to stumble into, after all. And, from that safe place, right into his arms.

You won’t have a choice. Because you were meant for each other. You just didn’t know it yet.

check out this masterlist for more cod fics or send me a request/comment! you can also support me on ko-fi

[squishyo-o]

you wanted inspiration about the tongue thing I NEED TO SEE THIS WITH JEONGIN! (I love youuu)

(SKZ) Jeongin Brainrot ❤️‍🔥

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I love our innie

That man has a tongue and he knows how to use it. Fight me.

In a way, innie likes being the dominant one, but there’s some days where he just gets so riled up and pussy drunk that he could just eat you out for hours. Sometimes he gets a bit needy with it too. But let’s imagine it happened in the morning..

CW!: I.N being thirsty for that 🐱, needy/"subby" innie in a way, nicknames (baby, cutie, pretty, probably others help-), praise (mainly innie praising how good your 🐱 is), obviously oral (f receiving), morning sex, there’s probably more atp

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You hear a soft whine coming from Jeongin "innie?" You assumed that he just woke up and was just stretching. "Cutie.." he said as you turned over to look at him. He pulled you closer to him and gave you a kiss. "Baby.. I need you.." "hmm..? What’s wrong?" "I need a taste.. please?" You couldn’t say no to his sleepy whiny voice so you nodded, giving him the okay to do what he wanted. "Did someone have a naughty dream?" You teased him.

His cheeks got flushed a little bit before he removed the covers and got between your legs to remove your pajama pants. "Yes.." he admitted. "And now I’m hungry. So this will be my breakfast this morning". He gently rubbed your thighs before slipping off your pants and your underwear at once. Whatever dream it was, it turned jeongin into someone else. He put a finger in and curled it a little, listening to your whimpers as he barely did anything with one digit. "Needed this so bad.." he whined.

He went ahead and stuck in a second finger, listening to the sounds of your whines again, turning into soft moans. "Innie.." Jeongin chuckled. "Feel good?" "Mhm.. fuck.." "keep it up cutie.. m’gonna use my mouth.." he said. He took his fingers out of you and licked them with a groan. He then dipped his face in between your legs and began making out with your clit. Immediately, you began to moan and whine Jeongin’s name. He was always so good with his tongue and he never failed to make you scream with it every time.

Jeongin was taking his time with you and making you cum. Savoring every taste with a whine. "J-jeongin.. fuck- y’tongue I-i.." you felt him chuckling against your pussy, which made it throb more. He kept dancing his tongue around your folds and sucking on the bud of your clit. The hunger he felt in this very moment was something he’d never experienced. "Jeongin.. innie.. I’m gonna cum!" You moaned. Jeongin kept going faster as you squeezed your legs around Jeongin’s head.

A moment of sobbing Jeongin’s name and finally you spilled all your juices into his mouth, pulling on his hair as you came. Electrolytes went through your thighs as you made a sticky mess in his mouth. He licked up your cum, helping you ride out your orgasm. He came up from between your legs and gave you a kiss, tasting yourself, which somehow made it ten times better. "Hope y’know we’re not done.." he said. "W-what do you mean..?" He got into bed with you and lifted you up so you’d be straddling him.

"Ohhh.. you want me to ride you.. I see innie.."

"No. I need you to sit on my face."

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𝔸ℕ: aaaand she’s done folks 💪😼 took me a minute with this one cuz I was thinking of plot but I like the way it turned out and I hope you did too <3

Next up: jealous taehyun

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Family

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: While you thought you're about to spend your perfect anniversary night with your boyfriend, life reminds you otherwise.

Warnings: sadness, depressive thoughts, infertility, pregnancy, endometriosis

Word count: 1k

A/N: What can I even say.. I've been at the doctor's today, for check up after my surgery, which was a year ago and I got confirmed that my endometriosis is growing back. Not that I wouldn't know, because I know my body, but being said the facts out loud is hard. I spent my afternoon crying, curled on the couch, questioning myself in case of being able to have a child one day. To get myself out of the misery, I wrote this, because I would like to have someone to come home to me and hold me in his arms, just giving me the support through all this shit. I already wrote a few pieces endometriosis related, so if you want, check it out too. Love you all. <3

---

It was meant to be a perfect day, you had plans to cook some dinner and also had some spicy things in your mind for the night.

Getting through your doctors appointments was something you got used to in the last year, after you had a surgery for your endometriosis. You felt something was off for a few months, your cramps crawling, stabbing you in the back again, those flares being harsh to the point you couldn't even sit. But you held your optimism, trying not to scare George, because worrying him while he was at his prime perfomance during the season wasn't on the list.

Today was meant to be special because you had a two years anniversary.

"Can you see these lesions here? It's back again, I'm sorry."

The words you somehow expected, but didn’t want to hear. The same spiral of pain, hormone shots, nausea and... infertility.

Yeah, you discussed it with George, because everything seems so easy to talk about with him, the idea of having kids.

It gutted you deeply, that you might not be able to give him a child.

As you got home, the space was quiet, only the soft humming of aircondition was heard, making your heart clench, that he's not even there to embrace your mess, even though it's not his fault. George was meant to be home in the evening, but you had a message in your voicemail, that he can’t get home in time, because of the delayed flight. Okay, he'll be here in the morning.

But your sadness and depresive thoughts will be with you through the night. Torturing your mind, getting the best of you, making you feel worthless and weak.

---

"Baby...?"

The faint sound of the deep voice woke you from the nap. You cried yourself to sleep in the living room, still wearing your clothes you went to the doctors in. The coat scattered on the ground next to the couch, your shoes kicked in the hallway, tissues to which you drowned your tears everywhere around you.

George knew something happened, it tugged at his heartstrings, when he saw you like this. Sad, messy and depressed.

You groaned a little, disoriented, while he sat beside you, his gaze locked on your face.

"What happened?"

Softly, he took your hand into his, brushing over your knuckles, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

Then it hit you again. "It's back again, I'm sorry."

Tears burning in your eyes, you avert them to the side, not able to look into his beautiful ocean blue eyes.

"Hey, love... Don't do this. I know, that something is wrong, but don't try to avoid me, I'm here for you, remember?"

The flicker of hope, that you’re not that worthless went through your mind, your gaze finally locking on his, pouring all your hurt into the pool of his positivity.

"I was at the doctor's today."

Oh no. There's was only one thing that was able to get this reaction out of you.

"How bad is it?"

His hand wander slowly to your cheek, brushing a thumb over it.

"It's not worse than last time, but still... It's there. Again. For fucks sake, again. I hate it so much. I hate myself."

The breaking point, your emotions flew out, your voice cracking and your tears staining your cheeks, your eyes red even more than before.

George pulled you closer to him, letting you lean against him, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. The scent of him mixed with his cologne was enough to calm you down a little bit. He was your safe haven.

"Shhh... It's okay, just- just let it out. Be angry, scream and cry. Don't hold it in your mind. I'm here to hold you, to pick up your shattered pieces." his voice was soothing lullaby, when your cries got louder and more desperate. Brushing his fingers through your hair, he pressed the kiss on your temple, rocking you as his arms were wrapped around you tightly.

"I might not be able to have a child, George." you choked out between your sobs, and he looked down at your face with frown.

"Is that the thing that concern you the most?"

"Obviously. What a woman I am, to not give her man a child."

George felt partly offended by your words, but he kept his composure, because he was used to your hateful comments towards yourself, even, for the most of the time, you were a hell of a confident woman, loving yourself.

"Don't talk like this, please. You're much more than a baby machine." he tried to be funny and.. it worked. You smiled through your tears. He reached for your cheek, wiping off your emotions, smiling a little.

"You can't lose hope just like that. We can be lucky, you know. We just have to try, be patient and somewhere along the way, we're gonna be blessed. I don't care if it's gonna be in a month or in years. I'll be there for you along the way. As I always am. And even though we don't get lucky, I'm lucky to have you. And that's all that matters in my life, because you're my family."

And as ever, he managed to give you peace, calming warmth flooded your soul, making you sure in that George is the one.

---

Watching the screen of the ultrasound machine as you laid down on the examination table at your doctor’s, you couldn’t shake the excitement. George, holding your hand, standing beside you, was watching your expression, his chest fluttering at how happy you were.

"Ah, seems like you got very lucky." The doctor chuckled, pointing to the screen, showing two strong fetuses.

"What does it mean?" George asked first, clearly confused.

"That means that you're gonna have twins."

You nearly passed out while you gasped loudly.

"What?! Two of them?"

George only chuckled, kissing your forehead, nuzzling his nose to your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

"Guess we were pretty thorough with our trying." he whispered with teasing tone in his voice.