#i have a migraine alright?! leave me alone

[apollo41writes]

Zoro and Sanji fighting, but make it tango.

Just think about it.

The legwork, the lifting, the eye contact, the proximity, the tempo, the tension...

And sure, that's in basically any form of dancing, but for some reason in my head their dance is the tango.

I just want this!!!

^^^ I need Zoro and Sanji doing this in my life.

I don't care if it's two people doing a little routine while in cosplay, if it's fanart or if it's fanfiction.

I need it.

Please, anybody! There must be someone out there that thought about this already, right?

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

The fight was ugly. The first fight that you and Eddie had turned from a quiet disagreement to a full blown yelling match.

Truthfully you couldn't remember what the fight was actually about. Something silly, something miniscule that turned into a big thing.

A big argument with some horrible things said; you still couldn't get Eddie's words out of your head.

"Why would this mean anything? It's just sex isn't it?" Eddie snapped and your heart broke into a million tiny pieces. Just sex. Right. Of course that's what you two were.

Truthfully you were a mess and you should have just gone straight back home after storming out of the trailer.

Eddie has tried to go after you but you were faster and ran before he could catch up with you.

Instead you bumped into a few of your friends and hitched a ride to some party that one of Jason Carver's friends were throwing. Robin noticed your tear streaked cheeks and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

She was the only one of your friends who knew about Eddie; maybe Steve as well as him and Robin were as thick as thieves. Like platonic soulmates or something.

You and Eddie got together two months ago, passing off the hook ups as just mind-blowing sex and that worked at first. That's until you begun to get to know Eddie better and the two of you spent more time together.

Eddie was easy to fall in love with. His reputation portrayed him as mean and scary, satan obsessed and someone people should stay away from.

He was none of those things, he was kind and fiercely loyal to his friends and uncle, he was passionate and badass and really it was no surprise that you fell in love with him.

At least now you know that he doesn't feel the same way, at least you found out now before it was too late and you were even more in love with him than you are now.

Maybe you could just hang with your friends and forget the words that had broken your heart tonight.

At least you hoped that was possible.

❤️

Fuck, you really should have went home. Your head was pounding, the two beers you had made you even more anxious and upset. To make matters worse Tyler Harvey wouldn't leave you alone, he had zeroed in on you from the second you had walked through the door.

As much as you tried to avoid him, he followed you around and it was beginning to give you the creeps.

He manages to corner you when you're trying to get up to the bathroom with Robin. He stinks of beer, smoke and sweat and it turns your stomach a little bit.

Leather, smoke and the hints of woods and musk were your favourite scents in the world right now and that had to do with the man you were trying not to think about.

You cringe away from Tyler but he's so drunk that he doesn't seem to notice, he moves closer to you and you instinctively step back.

"Can you move please? Robin and I need to go upstairs" you ask him but he doesn't appear to be listening.

"Aww why don't you come upstairs with me? I'll take care of you" Tyler smirks but you don't like the look in his eyes and immediately step away from him. Yeah...no thanks. Robin is at your side at once and glares at Tyler.

"Take the hint asshole. She's not interested" Robin gently guides you away but Tyler grabs your arm at the same time and you stumble, landing hard on the floor. It knocks the wind out of you and your body throbs from the contact with the floor.

Tyler scrapers from the scene without even checking to see if you're alright. Robin is cursing out Tyler and helps you up. You're sore, annoyed and just want to go home.

Steve appears out of nowhere and Robin mentions that she called Steve when you mentioned you were getting a migraine. Relief fills you, at least you could go to Steve's for a little while and try and salvage some of the night with him and Robin.

There's a tiny voice inside of you that is aching for Eddie and it's growing stronger. You dismiss the idea, you're sure that Eddie was glad to be rid of you. That thought caused a new throbbing ache in your chest and you hurried outside with Steve and Robin determined not to think about Eddie and his big brown eyes.

❤️

As soon as you're at Steve's he puts in a movie and you settle up on the couch with Robin while Steve makes snacks. Being here is soothing and you rest your head on Robin's

Steve's landline ringing breaks you out of your sleep, Steve hurries to answer it and your heart skips a beat when you realise it's Eddie.

"Yeah, yeah dude she's with me and Robin. Some shit went down at a party we were at... Oh that asshole friend of Jason was being a prick. Yeah Tyler is it? Woah calm down man, she's fine. She's just tired"

You get up which is a little tricky as the sudden movement makes your migraine feel ten times worse but you really want to speak to Eddie.

Steve passes the phone over to you and you smile a tiny bit as Eddie is still ranting about what he wants to do to Tyler.

"Eddie, I'm okay" you murmur and he stops his rant and breathes a sigh of relief.

"Sweetheart. Fuck, I've been so worried princess. I went to your house, then Family Video. I even dropped around Wheeler's house which was a shock for Mama Wheeler to see if you were there. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I was a butthead"

The ache in your chest subsides a little bit and you relax. "I'm sorry too. I'm really sorry" tears spill down your cheeks and it's cathartic to finally let them out.

"I'm going to come and pick you up Kay? I'm not going to relax until I see that you're okay. I'll see you in about ten minutes okay?"

The tension you're feeling begins to disappear and you wait for Eddie to arrive, thanking Robin and Steve for being so amazing tonight.

True to his word Eddie arrives as quickly as he says he would and gives Steve and Robin a quick nod in greeting, he immediately pulls you close to him.

His lips press against hair and he briefly talks to Steve before guiding you out the door and into his van.

You're so exhausted from the nights escapades that you're asleep instantly.

❤️

When you wake up you're in Eddie's bed, Eddie is laying beside you and reading Lord of the Rings - The Two Towers. When he realises you're awake he presses his lips to your forehead and he tucks the covers around you, cuddles up at your side and holds you close.

"I'm sorry I was such a dickhead. You have no idea how much you mean to me, you mean everything to me and I was so scared to tell you. So I lashed out and said stupid shit. Things I didn't mean"

There's something unspoken hanging in the air, a familiar tension that's been playing the two of you for a little while now.

"I thought that you were sick of me and that's why you said those things" you confess and play with a start thread on his plaid shirt.

Eddie's jaw drops and he's silent for a moment, "Princess how could you even think that? You're...shit, I've never felt this way about anyone and it's terrifying trying to think of the right words, wondering if you feel the same way" he pauses as he lets the words sink in.

He's blushing, restless and anxious as his eyes meet yours; You sit up and cup Eddie's cheek with your hand.

"How do you feel about me Eddie?" It feels pretty certain now but you'd like to make sure. You'd like to hear him say it.

"I'm in love with you princess. How can you not see that? I guess I was just scared to tell you because I'm not exactly the perfect guy am I?" He scoffs as he says this and you scowl at the way his eyes turn sad.

"I don't care about that Eddie. Who wants perfect? I don't. I think you're amazing and handsome, you're sweet and kind, a gentleman. You make my heart skip a beat when you look at me and I feel at ease and content when I'm with you" his fingers entwined with yours and he sighs.

"You know so many people think I'm a freak, normally I don't give a fuck but I do care what others think about you" you soften and press gentle kisses over his cheek, the action causes him to smile shyly and his tense body relaxes.

"Eddie I don't give a shit what anyone says or thinks. Are you going to give us up just because of some idiots who don't matter? The only people that matter in this relationship are you and me. I love you Eddie, I'm so in love with you"

He looks up at you stunned and then he kisses you fiercely, "No I'm not giving us up. I love you sweetheart so much. You're my girl and I'm not letting you go because of some dumb assholes opinion"

The two of you spend the rest of the night making up and when you're tucked up in Eddie's arms as he falls asleep, you're left with the gentle feeling of this being where you're meant to be.

This trailer, Eddie's room, his arms around you as his soft snores fill the air. The sound of the wind blowing against the windows as you're lulled to sleep.

This felt like home.

💕

I get to love you

It's the best thing that I'll ever do

I get to love you

It's a promise I'm making to you

Whatever may come, your heart I will choose

Forever I'm yours, forever I do

I get to love you, I get to love you.

I Get To Love You- Ruelle

[nyrandrea]

Everything's Fine

As you try to deal with everything that has been thrown at you so early into your journey: forced leadership, mindflayer tadpoles and taking on everybody's personal problems, it all just gets a bit too much for you.

(Takes place during Act 1)

Word Count - 3.5k

Also available to read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

xxx

You felt your patience starting to wear incredibly thin when you realised Astarion had been staring at you for over five minutes now. 

Not directly, he would never be so conspicuous—at least, not intentionally— but you kept catching those fleeting glances he was throwing your way; the corners of his red eyes crinkling every so often before returning to whatever book he was pretending to read. It wasn’t one of those charming, smouldering gazes he would sometimes give you after a night of feeding, asking if you were alright, knowing full-well that your answer was a resounding ‘I’m fine’, and that you would provide for him again soon. 

No, what he was doing right now—very carefully—was scanning you, studying you,  judging you. It was as if he was trying to leer right through to your very soul. 

You almost had half a mind to stomp over to his tent and demand what his problem was, but there were other unfortunate issues to contend with. 

Namely Shadowheart and Lae'zel. 

“I already told you that the artefact is my responsibility,” Shadowheart said, her aloof demeanour and confident tone betrayed by the hand hovering over the hilt of her dagger. “This way it will protect us all, I thought we had already established that!” 

“We have established nothing,” Lae’zel hissed back. “We only agreed not to slit each other’s throats in the night, though...,” she grimaced. “I still have no reason to trust that you will not try again.” 

“At least there’s still some sense in that bullish head of yours.” 

“Tsk!” Lae’zel spat at Shadowheart’s feet, much to the latter’s disgust as she recoiled back. “However, the matter still stands that the relic you hold onto belongs to my people. Therefore, it should be in my possession!” 

The cleric sneered. “I would sooner slit my own throat.” 

“Then go right ahead. Nobody will stop you.” 

Rubbing at your temples to try and ease the incoming migraine that, for once, was not caused by the mindflayer parasite living rent-free in your head, you decided to step in-between the two women, not really caring about risking a gutting from their trigger-happy blades. 

“C’mon, we’re not seriously having this fight again?” You huff incredulously, the question already sounding stupid as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course they were having this fight again. They had it yesterday, and the day before that, and they were probably going to have it tomorrow as well. 

“We are, as it happens,” Shadowheart replied, her eyes flickering briefly to you before narrowing forward again. “Because this savage bitch won’t leave me alone!” 

Lae’zel bared her teeth in a cruel grin. “Better to be that than a revrykal of Shar.” 

At the mention of her Goddess’s name, Shadowheart practically lunged herself towards Lae’zel with an enraged scream, her dagger raised high with the intention of plunging it straight into the githyanki’s chest, who in turn raised her shield to protect herself. In that moment, you were nothing to them but a speck of dust in the wind. 

It wasn’t until your hand shot up in a blind panic when Shadowheart realised what she was doing, forcing her to suddenly pull back to avoid injuring you, only a moment too late as her knife slashed the palm of your hand. Blood sprayed across the ground as your short but pained cry echoed throughout the camp. 

“Oh Gods...” Shadowheart muttered as everyone was suddenly on their feet and crowded around the three of you in a matter of moments. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t... mean to...!” 

“What? Attempt to kill our leader in cold blood?” Lae’zel muttered as she took your trembling hand to examine it, you only stared ahead as the shock took a moment to wear off. You didn’t even register her uncharacteristically gentle touch as she turned your palm up. “Only a flesh wound, you will live.” 

“Still,” Astarion piped up from behind. “Perhaps it would be best to get that dressed up lest you attract any...*ahem* unsavoury visitors.” 

“It would seem we already have,” Lae’zel replied, to which the vampire put a hand up to his chest in mock offence. 

“Lae’zel, you depreciate me,” he pouted. “I’m hurt.” 

Astarion’s sudden cold grasp on your wrist startled you as he decided to examine the cut himself in a much less gentle manner than Lae’zel. “Not that I would be able to get much from this anyway, even if I tried.” 

You were slightly worried that he was pondering the idea the longer he stared at the wound; you could practically see him drooling. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he snapped out of his daze. 

“Well, we should probably get this cleaned up anyhow,” he finally said. “To avoid infection and whatnot.” 

“...You’re not gonna lick it clean, are you?” Karlach asked with a grimace. 

“Of course not!” Astarion bit back, much more flustered this time. “I’m not some savage beast, you know.” 

“That’s... debatable,” Gale piped in. 

“Well! It’s lovely to know that you all think so little of me; the feeling is very much mutual,” Astarion said with a fake smile before taking you by the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ll have to nurse this poor wounded soul, as well as my pride.” 

He started guiding you away from the rest of the group, you only allowed him to because the whole situation had you in a bit of a daze, but not before Shadowheart tried to get in another “I’m... I’m sorry.” 

“It’s... I’m fine,” you replied with whatever level of composure you could muster up with a smile in a small attempt to reassure her before allowing yourself to be led towards Astarion’s tent. Your words seemed to satisfy her as Shadowheart returned a sorrowful but grateful nod, though her expression turned sour when Karlach stepped between her and Lae’zel. 

“Alright now, ladies, what do you two say we let out our pent-up aggression towards each other in a healthier and less murder-y way, huh?” The tiefling suggested before holding up her finger to not let the other two get a word in edgewise. “And before you ask, I will not be taking no for an answer.” 

A small smile graced your lips at Karlach’s enthusiastic yet surprisingly pragmatic way of taking charge, and it seemed to be working as Shadowheart and—to your utter astonishment—Lae’zel agreed to whatever training regimen she had in store for them.  

‘Perhaps Karlach should take over as leader...’  

The idea was extinguished as soon as it had entered your mind, replaced with thoughts of the tiefling messing everything up, of her killing you in your sleep, that you shouldn’t trust her to lead your party. The only one who should have any authority over these subordinates is you. Only you are worthy. 

The voice quieted down after a few moments, leaving you only with a pounding head—just another one of the many wonderful side-effects of the parasite. 

You didn’t take any heed of whatever thoughts the tadpole forced upon you. You knew that Karlach would never hurt you, or any of the others for that matter—not by choice, anyway. However, those flashes of betrayal and blood were starting to wear you down a bit, especially with the lack of sleep; the very notion of it had been non-existent since you escaped the nautiloid and accepted the leadership that everyone had practically forced upon you. 

You weren’t exactly a natural-born leader; hell, you barely managed to keep yourself alive never mind a whole group of people. 

“That’s going to need stitches,” Astarion said as he observed your hand more closely now that the two of you were in the privacy of his tent. Heat flushed around your cheeks at how close the two of you were. Flashes of that night you had shared a bed—or well, the forest floor—came to mind, and you hated how flustered it made you. It was a one-night stand, a bit of fun to ease the stress of adventuring; clearly it meant nothing. At least... that was what you were made to feel. 

What had been a night of passion for you, had been the same old dance for him. 

“Take a seat there,” Astarion’s said, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a knife. “I should have a needle around here, somewhere.” 

“You know how to sew?” You asked, settling down on a cushioned stool. 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, and a sting of guilt surged in your chest. “How do you think I’ve kept these clothes looking so good for over two hundred years? Certainly not by magic.” 

“Why not just buy new clothes?” 

Your prodding seemed to hit a nerve as he paused for a moment. 

“Why waste the coin?” He finally replied, sounding a little dejected. 

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip as you tried to think of a way to quickly rectify your carelessness. “You do look great, by the way—y-your clothes, I mean,” embarrassment takes over as you trip over your own words. “The gold embroidery is um *cough * it’s nice.” 

Astarion seems amused at your inability to grasp basic English as he chuckles, the sound deep and almost musical. “Why thank you, darling. I’m glad someone around here appreciates the finer details.” 

The vampire kneels next to you and threads the needle before gesturing for you to hold out your hand. “It has been a while so... let’s just hope I’m not too rusty, hm?” 

Those words don’t instil a great deal of confidence within you, but you won’t allow it to show, trusting in him to get the job done. If you ended up getting sepsis, well... Withers was always on stand-by. 

“Now, hold still,” Astarion instructed. “This may sting a little.” 

You nodded, only wincing a little when he made the first stitch, the pain became more bearable as you watched him focus with the kind of laser-like precision that only came with a practiced hand; it made you wonder how many times he had done this. His methodical movements almost lulled you into a sort of relaxed trance, had your mind have not been working overtime, you honestly might have fallen asleep: Gods know you could have done with a bit of shut eye. 

Ever since the ship crashed, your problems just seemed to keep piling on top of each other: Lae’zel was hellbent on getting to that githyanki creche, and there was the matter of Karlach’s engine, Gale was close to blowing to kingdom-come if he didn’t get another magical item to consume soon, Astarion would probably need another feeding at some point, not to mention the dog, Scratch, and the owlbear cub who had started hanging around the camp. A dog was one thing but how much did owlbears need to eat?  

It was fine, you reassured yourself. Everything would be fine. 

“There we go,” Astarion said, relinquishing your hand back, freshly stitched and cleaned. The pain was still there, dull and throbbing, but it wasn’t anything a quick healing spell couldn’t fix. 

“Not my best work but it will just have to do for now,” he huffs, as if he was annoyed with himself. “You’ll have to excuse the sloppy stitching, it’s... been a while.” 

“It’s beautiful work,” you can’t help but admire the stitching; it was flawless. “Thank you, Astarion.” 

His gaze remains on you for a moment, as if he were expecting some sort of quip or punchline, and his eyes widen slightly when he realises you’re being genuine. 

“I... uh... you...?” He pauses and squints; still nothing. “You are... most certainly welcome.” 

You raise an eyebrow; did he really think so lowly of you that he believed you simply weren’t capable of a simple 'thank you'? Or was it himself that he had no confidence in? Your thoughts turn to when you asked him about how he came about becoming a vampire. Astarion kept most of his history closed off from you but told you just enough to let you know that this ‘Cazador’ fellow had treated him poorly. Belittled him. Enslaved him. 

You couldn’t begin to imagine how horrible it must have been; no wonder he didn’t trust anyone. 

A part of you wanted to pry into his thoughts, to let him know that you were here for him should he ever want to talk, but a new figure entered the tent, startling you into closing your mouth. 

“Hello!” Gale cheerily greeted with a smile, his eyes latching onto you immediately. “How are we feeling?” 

“Oh, we’re feeling quite dandy, thank you,” Astarion interjected with a frown. “You didn’t think to knock before deciding just to barge in?” 

“Well, given the materialistic structure of this very sound establishment, I think you’ll find it’s a little difficult to uh...” Gale trailed off, attempting to rap the tent flap to no avail. “...knock on.” 

“Then why not just knock on the wooden beams with that...” The vampire waved lazily towards Gale’s staff. “Very large stick of yours.” 

“Duly noted, but I think we’re getting a bit off track here,” the wizard said before turning to you. “I need a word.” 

You were taken aback slightly by his bluntness, and you couldn’t help but notice the almost pained way he was wringing his hands and how his eyebrows subtly twitched. He looked incredibly... uncomfortable. 

His hand hovered over his chest briefly, just above the mark that glowed whenever he consumed magic. 

Shit. Was it that time already? But hadn’t you given him something only yesterday? Or had it been a few days now? With recent events, it was hard to keep track of the time anymore; day and night just meshed into one big messy blur. 

Judging by your panicked look, Gale held up his hands in a placating manner. “Now, I know you’ve had a lot on your plate recently but this little uh... situation of mine is growing quite dire again so... if you could just relinquish whatever magical artefact you have, then all will be fine and dandy.” 

“I... don’t have anything on me at the moment.” 

Gale’s expression dropped. “Come now, you must have picked up something along the way, surely?” 

You grimaced. 

“In a dungeon? Along the road? What about that little goblin camp you rampaged through recently?” 

His sudden passive-aggressiveness made you feel uneasy. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Astarion cut in, folding his arms. “But we were a bit preoccupied with fighting for our lives to be on the lookout for any magic boots for you to chew on.” 

Gale chuckled dryly and drew the vampire a dirty look. “I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of what might very well happen if I don’t find something to contain the beast within me very soon- “ 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, darling.” 

“This isn’t a joking matter!” 

“Ugh! Just shut up!” You snapped. “I do get it, Gale. Because you remind me Every. Damn. Day. About this big, scary, mystery catastrophe that might happen without actually explaining anything about it! A bit of context would go a long way!” 

Gale’s hurt wince suddenly had your stomach churning in guilt; you shouldn’t be snapping at people; you were better than that. 

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologised. “As soon as we’re out on the road again, I’ll make it our priority to look for an artefact for you, alright? You have my word.” 

Astarion scowled and Gale forced a smile; his lips too strained for it to be genuine. It seemed like you couldn’t please anyone today. 

“That’s all I can ask for, and I promise... all will be revealed soon, otherwise the tadpoles will be the least of our worries.” 

When Gale left, you plopped down to the ground and took ragged breaths to calm your nerves, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt as you nestled your injured hand in your lap. Had Gale only checked in on you so he could ask you for a magic item in return? Was he really that desperate? He must have been, seeing as you had completely forgotten about his predicament. 

What kind of leader were you? 

“You know, you can’t go making promises all willy-nilly like that,” Astarion said. “We have enough problems as it is without having to worry about...” 

His chastising faded into white noise as you grasped your head, the sting of your fingers curling and tugging through unkempt hair was just enough to distract from the pounding that came from within your brain. The ability to focus was suddenly lost to you as your heart raced, and dark emotions swirled within your chest like a wild tornado; it was tempting to let them sweep you away, to ride the waves into the unknown. To be anywhere but here without anyone depending on you for so, so much.  

“Hello?” Astarion drawled. “Are you even listening to- Darling...?” 

He moved closer to you; his steps measured and deliberate as he lowered himself down next to you, still allowing you enough space while being close enough to reach out a hand to your trembling shoulder, his touch cold yet oddly comforting. 

“Hey,” he spoke in a soothing, soft tone, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with unwavering support. “I’m right here with you, you’re safe, just breathe along with me, alright?” 

You nodded, albeit shakily, and tried to mirror his calm, measured breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, attempting to regain control over your racing heart. 

Astarion’s voice never wavered as your frantic gasps slowly started to synchronise with his calm breathing. “I know things are tough right now, but these feelings will soon pass. You’re stronger than you think, darling.” 

He continued to gently rub your back, tracing comforting circles with his fingertips, a rhythm that matched the cadence of your breath. Your hands slowly unlatched from your hair as you felt Astarion’s reassuring presence and honeyed words grounding you. 

“There we go, you’re regaining control,” he encouraged softly. “Now, I’m going to get you a glass of water, will you be alright for a moment?” 

You nodded again, and with a quick squeeze of your shoulder, he left. As your panic attack started to ebb, your breathing evened and your heart slowed as you felt yourself returning to the present moment, the tension that had your body rigid starting to ease. 

Astarion was back by your side within moments, gently pushing a glass into your hand and helping you lift it to your lips for a small sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. 

“How do you feel?” 

“I’m-” 

“And don’t you dare say ‘I’m fine’,” he scowled. "Because we both know you’re clearly not.” 

You racked your brain to try and find a way to explain that you were okay and that this was just a small moment of weakness, a blip in the road, that there was nothing to worry about and you had it all figured out. 

But the words never came, instead you draw your knees up and hug them close to your chest as if to hide away from his piercing gaze. 

Astarion lingers by your side for a moment, his expression unreadable. 

“Would you like to stay in here for a while?” 

Unable to find the energy to speak, you simply nod. 

“Then come on, scooch over.” 

As you shuffle slightly to the side, Astarion sits down next to you, draping an arm over your shoulder and allowing you to settle your head into his side and cling to his shirt in a way that a child might cling to their mother. 

“...I’m sorry." 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Astarion’s expression soften as he waved a nonchalant hand. “Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, dear. If anything, I should be the one apologising, who knew being in my mere presence would be so breathtaking?” 

You managed a small chuckle at that. 

“But in all seriousness,” he continued. “I know a thing or two about putting on a façade and... well...,” he paused. “Just... know that if you ever want to talk, I’m all pointy ears.” 

You hum in acknowledgement, though you can tell by his undertone that he’s being disingenuous, kindness wasn’t exactly his forte after all, but you appreciated the attempt all the same. But you were just content to sit in his arms for a while, and he seemed pleased enough with the silence. So, for now, you inhale the comforting aroma of bergamot, rosemary and brandy, letting yourself get lost in his comforting presence. 

And exhale. 

xxx

Hellooooo Baldur's Gate 3 has me in a chokehold and the brainrot is real. I'm only in Act 1 hence why this fic takes place so early in the game but this idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. Apologies for any inconsistencies :'3 Let me know what y'all think!

*Edit - since this has been pretty well received, I've opened up requests! Pop me an ask if you would like one :)

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Room Away (No More)

Part 2 of A Room Away

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!roommate!reader

Summary: Your abusive ex reaches out, and you hide it from Tim until it's almost too late.

Warnings: angst, domestic violence, abuse, assault, anxiety/panic attacks, fluff and a happy ending guaranteed!!

Word Count: 3.7k+ words

A/N: A Room Away is one of the first Tim fics I wrote and it took me a few months, but I loved writing this continuation! I hope you enjoy!🤍

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim’s thumb brushes back and forth over a nearly invisible scar on your arm as you wait for your dinner guests. Remembering that it has been days since your last nightmare and nearly a week without a migraine makes you smile, and Tim glances at you but doesn’t ask any questions. The doorbell rings and he grumbles under his breath as he leaves your side. As he opens the door to invite Angela and Wesley in, your phone vibrates beside you. Tim is giving Angela a hard time, as usual, and you take the moment when her attention isn’t on you to read the new text.

Unknown There is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.

The sentence is familiar, too familiar. You read the message again, and before you finish another comes through.

Unknown Los Angeles isn’t big enough to hide you from me.

“Are you okay?” Angela asks.

You lock your phone quickly and clear your throat before you look up at her and nod. The message repeats over and over in your head. Your phone may not know who sent the text, but you do, and knowing that your ex is in the same city as you terrifies you. Deep down, you know you should tell Tim, but you can’t.

“How’s Timothy treating you?” Angela adds.

She sits beside you, and you try to forget about the text for now. “He still won’t reduce my rent,” you complain jokingly.

Tim watches you from his spot in the kitchen. The last few weeks have been good. Your nightmares are becoming less frequent, you let Tim touch you without flinching or panicking, but the look on your face right now isn’t right.

“How are things?” Wesley asks. “Need a prenup, yet?”

“Funny, Wesley,” Tim replies without looking away from you. “I hope Angela cleans you out in the divorce.”

“He can keep the kids,” Angela adds from beside you.

“Good luck getting rid of me,” Wesley says. He lowers his voice and turns away from Angela to ask, “Seriously, Tim, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Things are good, great even. I just don’t want to do anything that makes us go backward.”

“Abusive relationships are hard to get over, but you’re helping her with that, Tim.”

“I hope so.”

“Wasn’t a question, Sergeant.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he puts your favorite food on a plate. It isn’t often that Angela and Wesley come over, but right now, Tim wishes he was alone with you so he could check on you. You don’t seem to hide things from him on purpose, and he understands the time it takes to trust people after having your trust betrayed and being abused. He’ll never push, but the moment you pull, he’s there. Never more than a phone call or a room away.

“Here you go,” Tim murmurs as he passes you a plate.

Your shoulders tense as he nears you but drop just as quickly. The jumpiness is something that was completely gone just yesterday, and Tim furrows his brows as he watches you accept the plate and look out the window. He runs a finger over your jawline to bring your attention back to him, and you smile at him.

“You alright?” he asks.

It seems to be everyone’s question tonight, and you once again lie, “Yeah.”

Tim nods and you thank him for the food before moving to sit by Angela. With his eyes on you throughout dinner, Tim decides that something is wrong, and he needs to get to the bottom of it. You open up as the night continues, yet when Angela and Wesley leave, you fall silent as you clear the table.

“Hey,” Tim calls softly.

He wraps a kind hand around your wrist to stop you, and you flinch away from him involuntarily. Tim raises his hands, and you drop your chin toward your chest and fight the tears threatening to spill. You’re scared because of the text, but that is no reason to move away from Tim. As you struggle not to panic, Tim whispers that everything is okay.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.

Tim shakes his head to remind you that you never have to apologize. You step closer and pinch his shirt between your fingers before wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Strong arms settle over your back, and you push your cheek over Tim’s heart.

“I’m just feeling off, or something,” you say. “Please don’t worry about me.”

Tim hums and moves a hand to brush your hair away from your face. He won’t agree not to worry about you, and it’s too late to pretend like he’s not already doing just that.

The next few days pass slowly, and as you continue to spend more time at home, Tim’s concerns grow. You’re up and moving around, so it’s not a migraine, but you haven’t worked more than eight hours in three days. Every time Tim sees you at home, he hugs you, kisses you, and silently reminds you that he’s right beside you, but you keep up your act that nothing is wrong. It’s a failing façade, though, and you’re just waiting to break.

When you wake just after 1 in the morning, you can’t stop the scream that escapes. Your ex was in your room, in Tim’s home, and when he was done with you he was going to cross the hall and do the same to Tim. Of all the nightmares you’ve had, seeing Tim moments away from being hurt was the scariest of them all. You pull your knees up to your chest and drop your head as you sob, your panicked scream making way for the fear you’ve been burying since you got the text.

Tim comes in without question or knocking, and when your door hits the wall, you lift your head and flinch to the other side of your bed. At the sight of Tim, however, you launch yourself toward him and let him pull you close. You cry against his chest as he whispers comforting promises, but the only thing that helps you is the tangible reminder that he is safe. You tell yourself over and over, clutch his shirt, and listen to his heartbeat. He’s safe, and he won’t let anything happen to either one of us.

As he holds you, Tim keeps you as close as possible. He knows that you shouldn’t ask questions now. Not that you’d give him an honest answer anyway, he thinks. Whatever you’ve been hiding is making you scared, and it breaks Tim’s heart to see you affected this way. Waking up to your scream scared him, so he can only imagine what must be going through your mind.

Unknown I saw the planetarium today. Can you see it from your new home?

Unknown Met a girl in the supermarket who looked like you. But I won’t settle for second best.

Unknown Clues, clues, clues. Am I getting closer, baby?

With each new text you receive, you have to talk yourself out of running from Tim. You don’t want to pull away from him, but you constantly worry that if you’re found, Tim will be in danger, too. A knock on your door draws your attention away from the newest message, and Tim smiles when you meet his eyes.

“Want to go to lunch? Just us?” he offers.

You should say no, but you nod before standing. Nothing bad can happen in public, and being beside Tim is the safest place to be, you think. Even as you try to convince yourself that going to lunch will be fine, you can feel the fear and anxiety building in your chest. It weighs down on you and makes it hard to breathe, so you measure each breath and focus on Tim instead of the adrenal responses flooding your body.

Tim turns into a random subdivision and slows down. You raise your brows and look at him, but he only offers a hand extended over the console. When you lay your hand over his, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls your hand closer to him. He makes another turn, and you realize that he’s not taking a shortcut to the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” you inquire quietly.

“I don’t want to push you too hard or too soon,” he says. “But something is bothering you, and I can’t help if you stop talking to me.”

“Tim, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been feeling off.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass.”

“What will pass? Pushing me away and blocking me out won’t fix whatever is happening!”

“And telling you will?” you ask. You’re getting defensive because you’re scared, and you try to pull your hand away so you can stop talking to him.

“Why did you ever let me in if it was just going to end like this? I’m with you, but why can’t you trust me enough to tell you what’s making you scream in the middle of the night and jump when I walk up behind you?”

“Because he can threaten me all he wants, but I don’t want Brent to find you too!” you snap.

“Brent?” Tim asks lowly. He pulls his hand away and sets his jaw to ask, “Brent who?”

You shrink in the passenger seat and whisper his last name. Tim’s brakes squeal as he presses the pedal to the floor and parks on the side of the road. You can tell without looking at him that he’s angry, and you slipping up and saying your ex’s name certainly didn’t help.

“Get out,” Tim orders.

“Are you serious?” you whisper brokenly.

“Out of my truck. Now.”

You slide out of the passenger seat and close the door behind you. Tears have been building in your eyes for a week, and you let them fall freely now. You’re scared and hurting, but Tim refuses to look at you as you stand on the curb.

“Tim, please don’t do this,” you plead through the rolled-down window.

Tim doesn’t answer, and when he shifts the truck back into drive, you know he’s serious about leaving you here.

“Tim, please!” you beg through your tears.

“Go home,” he says over the engine.

The truck pulls away from the curb where you stand, and you harshly wipe your tears away to clear your vision. As you dig for your phone, you know it’s time to take Angela up on her offer. She said to call if Tim was ever mean to you, and you think leaving you on the side of the road counts.

Tim turns around in a nearby cul-de-sac and parks behind a tree where you can’t see him, but he can keep an eye on you. He’s angry and needed a second to calm down, but he never intended to leave you. He sighs as he types the name of your ex into his phone. He’ll ask Angela to run it later. When Tim looks back up at you, you have your back to him, and your phone raised to your ear. Your shoulders shake as you cry, and Tim taps his knuckles against his steering wheel. He made you cry this time, and though he’s glad to have a few answers, he wishes this wasn’t how he got them.

After moving in, you confided in Tim that Angela told you to call her if he was ever mean to you. When her car pulls up and you climb into the passenger seat, Tim shakes his head fondly. You’re mad at him, but you’re still perfect in his eyes. Now that he knows you’re safe, Tim decides to stop by the station and do some digging on your ex.

“I think I’m going to text Tim,” you say.

“What? No! He abandoned you. Just eat your ice cream and wait for him to come and beg on his knees,” Angela replies. She points her spoon at you and adds, “You’re too good for him, anyway.”

“I think that’s the other way around.”

“Fine,” she groans. “Text him. But I’m still mad at him.”

Your text to Tim is short, a simple apology, just: I’m sorry. His response is nearly immediate, and you smile when his name pops up in the notification.

Tim I’m not mad at you. I know you’re with Angela. Want me to pick you up?

Tim You don’t have to come home if you’re not ready. Whatever you want.

Your response is a promise that what you want is to be with Tim. Angela rolls her eyes at your smile, but she’s happy for you and Tim. After all, it’s because of her that you found a place a live and met Tim. She begins to ask a question, but your ringing phone cuts her off.

“Tim?” you ask as you answer.

“When did the texts start?” he inquires.

“Uh, about a week ago, I guess.”

“Change of plans, then. Let me talk to Angela.”

You pass the phone to Angela, and she listens for a moment before she stands and walks into her bedroom. Whatever they’re talking about, they don’t want you to know about. Tim said there was a change of plans, which sounds suspiciously like he won’t be taking you home tonight. The panic from earlier returns slowly as you wonder if he’ll ever let you go home again.

“Your boyfriend wants to talk,” Angela says, cutting through your doubt as she returns your phone.

“Sorry,” Tim begins. “I looked into your ex. He flew into LAX about a week ago, so the texts weren’t just threats. He’s here. And a week is a long time when you’re trying to find someone. I want you to stay at Angela’s tonight, okay?”

“Are you- are you working tonight?” you ask softly.

“I am now. Brent’s got an arrest warrant, and the threats he sent you make him a higher priority. We’re gonna look for him. We will find him,” Tim promises.

“Be careful, Tim.”

“I will. I have to get home to you, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll call you later and check in. Let Angela know if you get more texts, please.”

“I will. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“I promise I’m not mad at you.”

“I know,” you murmur. “See you later, Tim.”

Tim’s decision to drive by his house before he starts looking for your abusive ex was both a precaution and about Kojo. The house looks exactly as it had when he left with you for lunch, and Tim puts Kojo in the front seat of his shop before driving toward Angela and Wesley’s house. If Brent goes to his house to find you, both you and Kojo will be safe and sound with Angela Lopez prepared to defend you. There aren’t many people Tim trusts, but when you called Angela, he knew you made the right choice. It’s the one he would have made, too.

Kojo pushes past Angela to meet you when she opens the door. You happily invite him into your lap and hug him tightly. He soothes your nerves without trying, and you loosen your grip on him only to look up at Tim.

“Nothing yet,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m a call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Tim,” you reply.

He lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles as he promises, “I’ve got you.”

“Where’s your car?” Angela asks you.

“I just moved it. Public parking off Sepulveda,” Tim answers for you. “He doesn’t seem like the smartest guy in the world, but, just in case.”

“He’s not,” you agree.

Tim slowly pulls his hand away before he leaves again, and you lean closer to Kojo for his comfort. Angela disappears into her bedroom again a few minutes later and returns in a rush.

“I have to go. There’s been a homicide,” she explains. “I called Tim and he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Don’t answer the door for anyone; he and Wesley have keys.” She slows to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go solve a homicide.”

She rushes out the front door and locks it behind her, but you stand and double-check it anyway. Your phone is empty of notifications, and you can only wait until Tim arrives. After you settle beside Kojo again, you give him your attention. You and he freeze simultaneously when your phone chimes on the coffee table.

Unknown Walk outside or you will cost them everything.

You read it twice before you realize what he’s asking you to do. The moment you step out in the open, he can do anything and everything he wants. But you look around and see the life Tim and Angela have built for themselves and know that you can’t do anything to jeopardize that or their safety. So, you quickly shepherd Kojo into a bedroom and lock the door before slowly flipping the locks on the front door and stepping out into the Los Angeles night. The sun recently set, but there’s enough light you can see someone standing at the corner of the yard. Tim can’t be more than a few minutes away, but his thirty-minute estimation feels like an eternity.

“Los Angeles,” Brent says before laughing. “I knew you’d run somewhere you could hide but the city of angels? You, baby, were never going to fit in here.”

“What do you want?” you ask, willing your voice to be strong.

Brent smiles and you take a step back as he moves closer. You stumble against the sidewalk behind you, and Brent surges forward to wrap a cruel hand around your arm. He twists your skin with his grip, and everything about his touch is the opposite of Tim’s. For the first time since you met Brent, you fight back. Your free hand makes contact with his jaw, but he recovers quickly and shoves you to the ground.

Pulling your knees up, you try to create momentum to knock Brent off of you, but he pushes your legs down and shoves the heel of his hand between your ribs. The air is driven from your lungs, but you know you can’t stop fighting. When Brent moves his hands, so one is holding your face and the other is reaching for something in his waistband, you panic. You need Tim, but he’s a call away, and you left your phone inside.

“Domestic dispute and assault in progress at…”

Tim doesn’t hear anything past Angela’s address, and he hits the lights as he makes the final turn onto her street. Several neighbors are gathered on the opposite side of the street and watching an altercation in Angela’s front yard when he reaches the curb. A woman screams, and Tim slams the shop into park when he sees the glint of a gun being pulled. He opens the shop door and immediately ducks as a shot is fired. “L.A.P.D. Put down the weapon!” he yells from behind his open door.

He calls your name, but there’s no sound. No reply, no calls or screams from the neighbors, and Tim peeks around the door. Slowly, the gun is tossed to the side and the man, your ex, slowly clambers onto his hands and knees. When he sits back and puts his hands up, Tim has a clear view of you lying on the ground. There’s blood on your face, and you’re not moving, so Tim rushes forward. Two more police cars join Tim’s shop, but his complete focus is on you. He kneels beside you and pushes two fingers against your pulse point.

“I’m okay,” you whisper when you feel Tim’s skin on yours.

Tim sighs and drops his head before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your torso off the ground and into a hug. You return his tight grip as he sits on the sidewalk and holds you close. Two other officers handcuff Brent and put him in the back of a cruiser, and you’re surprised but pleased with the lack of threats directed toward you.

“Sergeant Bradford, the weapon was discharged, but the bullet was fired into a tree. CSU will gather data for ballistics,” an officer tells Tim quickly.

His grip tightens on you at the mention of the gunshot, and you sigh against his shoulder. As you lean up, he gets a better look at the bruise under your jaw and the fresh blood pooling against the older, dried blood under your nose. He moves you gently so he can stand and calls for a paramedic.

“Tim, I’m fine,” you say with a painful chuckle.

“Respectfully, I want a second opinion,” he replies. “And then we’re going home.”

“Don’t forget Kojo.”

“I’ll get him.”

“Oh, you may need a key.”

Tim furrows his brows at you but doesn’t ask what you’re talking about as he lowers beside you again. His hand in yours distracts you from the pokes and prods of the paramedics, and your mind is no longer anxious and scared, but excited to go home and remind Tim how much you appreciate his protectiveness.

Tim doesn’t let you out of his sight or his hold from the moment you enter his house. He pulls you against him and sits on the couch, inviting Kojo to join you. You’re finally okay, and it makes it easier for both you and Tim to show the affection you’ve been avoiding.

“I don’t want to be a call away anymore,” Tim confesses softly. “Not a room away… I need to be right beside you.”

“Tim, I only asked for the separation because I had to have it. Thinking that he would come after me was concerning, but the closer I got to you, the more worried I was he’d hurt you, too.”

“I understand that, but it’s over now. So, it’s your choice again.”

You nod and tilt your bruised face up from Tim’s chest to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be a room away either,” you whisper.

Tim smiles and brushes a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before withdrawing his touch from your face. He kisses you gently, a series of pecks more than a real kiss, before allowing you to move closer.

As you fall asleep in Tim’s arms, you’ve never felt more at home. His touch, his presence, his protectiveness, and his care make him special, and he’s the best roommate-turned-more you could have asked for.

“I love you,” Tim whispers, and you wake up faster than ever.

[raribella]

Love is Embarrassing | JJ Maybank

summary: although JJ had promised your brother he wouldn’t ever hurt you, you saw him kissing Kie while you were on a break.

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader

genre: emotionally heavy anst, fluff in the end

contains: reader being a real bitch, mentions of Luke and parental abuse, inspired by some songs in the album “GUTS” by Olivia Rodrigo, kinda shitty ending but let me know.

word count: 2,7k

author’s note: alright I know I’ve been MIA and a bitch and I haven’t posted anything in months (worse if you see how much stuff is on my “upcoming works” section), but I’ve just had a lot of ideas, little time and little confidence to write. one of my best friends just showed me obx and I’m in love with this blonde and I got (I think) a spoiler about him and Kie and I just had to do something with my feelings.

This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.

“If I fuck up with her that might as well be the last thing I do in my life, John B! I mean it!”

the words that JJ heatedly uttered to your twin brother the day he found out about the two of you were repeating over and over in your head right now. You remembered it all too well; John B was seething, absolutely pissed, seeing red. You and JJ Maybank knew each other for as long as he and your brother were best friends, when you turned 14, he declared to all the Pogues that you were off limits, and about two months ago, you and JJ started seeing each other. One month into it and JB discovered you, which was easy considering JJ already spent most of his time with both of you at the Chateau. JJ promised his best friend that he wouldn’t fuck up with you because two things mattered the most for him in this life; their friendship, and yourself.

But as of lately, he was having some problems with Luke and he asked for some time “out” so he could figure his shit out without involving or hurting you and you disagreed but you’d do pretty much anything in this world for this man so you decided to say yes.

To his bullshit.

Bullshit, you figured out about half an hour ago, when you heard a confusing conversation between him and Kiara – the perfect one – and when you went outside to track the noise, you saw them kissing.

You were fifteen minutes late to leave for the weekly kegger and you forced yourself to lock yourself in the bathroom and call in sick – because that you were, and you wouldn’t handle being out partying and pretending like seeing the kooks, and seeing them two wouldn’t make you feel the same type of nausea at this moment.

Sarah was the third person to try and make you get out of the bathroom. The first being your brother and the second, Pope. Although you were thankful neither JJ nor Kie had tried to talk to you, when you heard your best friend’s voice, you were actually starting to feel sick, you were having a migraine from holding tears up, and you were sweating.

“Y/n, come on! You were so excited to come not even an hour ago, we’re already late and I don’t see why wouldn’t you want to come”

Your vision was blurry as you palmed the door and laid your forehead on it. Sarah realized that you really weren’t coming when she heard your voice crack.

“Sarah please, just, go on out without me this one time, I need not to be there right now and I also need to be alone please don’t ask me questions I can’t handle to answer you this moment I promise-“

As you rambled, she frowned from the other side of the door. Making sure to get everyone to leave for the Kegger, to try and remember asking you about this later on, and to reassure John B that you were actually okay.

You’ve been successfully avoiding JJ for about two weeks now. It started with enough discretion, allegedly going to the bathroom every time he entered a room, or offering everyone any snacks you would spend too much time preparing in the kitchen. For him, it started getting obvious when you looked the other way when he looked at you at the beach, or when you refused to surf and, as of recently, started slamming the doors on him. JJ was getting pissed at this rate. He started by simply frowning and brushing it off, but you couldn’t just keep slamming doors and not even looking at him, and if everyone else noticed, they just wouldn’t budge! The worst part is that he didn’t know what had happened nor if he could fix it. You understood him when he told you he needed time to figure out some stuff with Luke, but the truth was he was still very much freaked out about that. He still loved you, and he couldn’t afford to see you like this anymore, especially when such behavior was being directed at him. JJ missed you. Even if he couldn’t really figure his shit out, he missed you screaming at the top of your lungs as you entered the sea, he missed your smile, your laidback grin that he was the only receiver of, he missed your colorful bikinis, and how they embraced your features as you would jump onto every wooden swing near the shore, your curly hair flying everywhere filled with salt spray. He just missed you, the real you. And he had to talk to you to see if there was even a chance that he could get you back.

You, on the other hand, kept avoiding the questioning looks the pogues would send you every time you were harsh or avoidant at JJ, your brother even attempted to talk to you, silently, just with glances, and figure out if his best friend had hurt you. But even if he did, it only hurt because you loved him too much, and you decided it was best to protect him from John B’s wrath. You felt embarrassed whenever Kiara questioned you with her eyes as well; you felt embarrassed to be near her. You kept crucifying yourself and both her and JJ because of everything, often zoning out of the conversation and just bitterly reminiscing about the times you consoled your boyfriend as he cried late at night in your room, being gentle with his bruises. – thinking how could you be so stupid? giving up everything, betting on him against your brother’s better judgment. You kept paying attention to Kie and how, since that day, she looked like the sweetest thing of the Cut, the fucking hell-side of the island. Her perfume lingered in the air even at the beach and made you feel sick; you saw her everywhere now, even when you looked at him. You saw the scene of them kissing. Feeling every word she would utter toward you in conversation like bullets on your skin. As it was torture how she was the greatest thing to ever exist – how everyone loved her, how she was so much better than you; poisoning everything that you do and still being the sweetest friend, making you despise how rotten your mind was; how jealous your eyes were.

You were bottled up to the brim.

It started out simple enough. JJ had noticed everyone was doing their own thing at the Chateau; John B was absent for the time being, and you were alone on the couch, fidgeting, focused on whatever. It seemed like the perfect window to try and have an actual conversation about what’s been happening. He just didn’t expect it all to escalate so quickly. He didn’t expect you to have seen a part of his conversation with Kiara about his dad – but not everything, not the ending. – He hadn’t expected a conversation with you of all people to become a bomb with a short fuse that would explode into feelings tainted crimson. watching you bleed, making him bleed all over for you.

"Pogues don't mack on pogues, y/n! this shit freaked me out, your brother finding out freaked me out, yeah, even if he’s my best friend and I was afraid that-”

“Oh, so you go ‘round and fucking get with Kiara?! this is fucking bullshit, JJ! bullshit-

“Y/n, listen to me!”

You both were screaming, Kie’s eyes went wide as she tried calling your name as well but you had already started crying and couldn’t pay attention to anyone but him. At this point, as John B arrived at the Chateau and followed the noise, the people around you calming you down couldn’t be sure if they were afraid of his arrival or actually relieved. You kept interrupting each other. JJ pulled his hair and you pointed at yourself and to your side – as if Kiara was still there – strength marking red fingertips above your chest.

“‘Cause she’s not even a real pogue, right?! that’s why you got so confident about it, huh?”

it was almost as if the room went silent. Kiara decided to step outside to give you space; to take a moment to breathe in and take notice that you didn’t mean that. She was sure you didn’t. The rest of the group started to move aside as well although they could obviously still hear the commotion. Only you, John B, and JJ were in the living room. Your brother grabbed your shoulders from behind trying to ground you in any way he could, JJ growing nervous at the rate of the conversation and his friend’s presence.

You looked into his eyes and it was as if the blue in them was slowly fading, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth twisted in a clearly upset frown. As tears stained your cheeks, pride still overpowering your shame and feelings pent up, you started with more meaningless empty jabs, which, said angrily enough, would only make JJ bleed more as he fell silent himself.

“I really loved you, you know? You gotta laugh at the stupidity.. right? Come on you were going around doing that shit and I swear JJ I used to think was really smart… I was just a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked-up little thrill for you, tho… best friend’s little twin… ridiculous.”

At that, John B diverted his attention toward his friend with stern questioning eyes. JJ gulped.

“Look, man I just really need to talk to her and explain myself, ‘aight? I didn’t do what- Things are really not what they seem right now and I need her to-“

“Fuck, JJ, that’s bullshit! How can you not even flinch when you fucking lie like that! Things are just like what they seem you never even fucking loved me! You can’t love anyone, ‘cause that would mean you had a heart, right? But you’re a fucking Maybank! And I really tried to help you out all this time but now I know that I can’t!”

You were calming down, but exploded again, as the words left your mouth though, you started regretting them, the most deeply someone could ever regret anything maybe, worsening by the second as you saw the man you still loved muttering a small “no”, cracking at your words and shedding a tear. As Kiara heard what you said from the outside, she didn’t even think before bursting into the house again, turning every head in her direction.

“Y/n you’re spiraling and you’re saying things you’ll fucking regret! I kissed him, alright?! This is my fault. He stopped me, he loves you and he wouldn’t do that, okay?”

Though the words she was muttering were calming you down, she was calling you out, she was absolutely mad at what you said about JJ’s father because she had context and it was really fucked up. You felt small.

“Kiss?!” John B asked, his eyebrows shooting up. It wasn’t his intention to aggravate the situation but it was his little sister involved. JJ tried to start talking and explain the situation – which Kiara had left him to, but he could really only think about one thing.

“I- uh… did you mean it? What you said.”

JJ rarely expressed any sign of vulnerability, so as his voice broke, you felt like your heart did too, rushing to explain yourself now, and trying to get closer to him.

“I didn’t mean it, J, I really didn’t! God, I don’t even know how you can still even look at me right now I’m so sorry I was just so fucking broken at the idea of you che- of losing you, and I- I thought you had found someone else and I damn near started world war III right now and it’s just because I love you so much and I know you don’t deserve another fucked up demonstration of love, you deserve to feel so good, Jay, and I’m really sorry, I love you so so much, and I will understand if you never-“

You were interrupted by the shock of his own body against yours. The both of you were panting, crying, completely tired sighs leaving each mouth as if this was all going on for days and you were so hurt, yet needing each other so much. John B and Kiara were ‘okay’ enough with the newfound situation to leave you both to your own devices again, and you just clung to one another, sitting on the floor for what felt like hours until he decided to speak again.

“Y/n… I asked for us to take some time because it was becoming too real, y’know? What we felt for each other.. it was, touchable- it is. And when everyone else found out, and then John B… You know I don’t talk about this usually, not with anyone but you, but I didn’t want my dad to find out about us, to find out about you. I don’t want him knowing what you are for me I don’t want him knowing that laying a single finger on you can be worse than any punch he could throw my way. And I wanted to figure this out without you knowing about it because you’d say it’s fine, and I-“

As your mind processes his words, you start to think how in the world you got a man whose the first concern about a monster of a father would be you. How could you deserve it, especially after what you had insinuated about him. “It is! It’s fine, honey, we can-“

“No, y/n it’s not fine because I don’t ever want you to even worry your pretty little head about a situation like that, y’know? And It’s not fine because the pogues are my family and the love I feel for you, if anything would happen to you because of him I’ll be damned, damned, and in jail for murder, you can trust me I will.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. All you could do was keep the hold you had on each other, slightly caressing his head.

“Since I didn’t want you to know about it, I went to Kie, that night of the Kegger, and she tried to help me and she said she loved me and I did too but then she kissed me and I assume it’s what you saw but I did step back, I promise! I told her off… Y/n I told your brother that if I intentionally hurt you, if I fucked up with you like this then that might as well be the last thing I did in my life and I mean it. I love you so much, little Routledge, and I’m all in now. We can figure shit out as we go but as long as we have each other, okay?”

As JJ spoke, he held your hands, reassuring you at the end. Hours had passed ever since you started talking, so when the pogues felt everything was calmer they decided to go back in the house slowly – figure out how you were, what were the plans for the night.

“Do you really forgive me for what I said? I will understand, J, I’m so, so sorry, I love you so much” You touched your forehead with his, and JJ sighed, shaking his head slightly. “I love you. I love you, y/n… can’t be without you.”

And as you both kissed each other as if you were making up for ages lost, Sarah smiled at the corner of the room, John B interrupting the show. “Come on with the PDA, love birds… What are we doing tonight, then?” He half-heartedly scolded as you got up, hand glued to the blonde's. You let out a big sigh again, before brushing them off with an honest, but half-assed excuse, already making the way to your room.

“I mean, you could go to Heyward’s… I think we’ll just lie down a bit.. ‘twas kinda draining…” you saw a bunch of side smiles as the group left through the door, Sarah grinned, letting out a puff of air through her nose, and when Pope went to close the door, he screamed back in the direction of your room, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” which earned a scream back from an already lying down JJ, “might as well not do anything!” and for the first time in a while, you laughed, making your way to lie on top of him, his embrace being all you needed.

“You know… we could go out to surf tomorrow,” he offered, still missing the sight of a happy you, your bikini, and the ocean.

“First thing in the morning.” You answered.

[mydearesthrry]

love in secret - h.s.

a/n: ohhhh my loves this one is a mess. please bear with me!!! it gets better. i promise. i love this one so so dearly and its very special to me so please be kind :’( i love you i love you i love you, thank you for choosing to read my work. enjoy <3

🎀 warnings/cw: a really weird creepy uncle (weird comments/advances on yn), a weird creepy guy at a bar, a weird girl at a birthday party, angst, harry yells lol, FLUFF CANT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGHHHH, PROTECTIVERRY nothing too out of the ordinary for me

🐇 pairing: best friend!reader x harry styles to lovers

💐 wc: 5.9k (not edited, completely unproofread)

summary: 5 times when Y/N and harry communicated with just a look to each other, or, 5 times where they just understood.

— 1

The lights in the restaurant were bright. Blinding, really. YN had a hard time even keeping a conversation with someone due to the lights being so bright and her needing to shut her eyes tightly every couple of seconds. It was unfortunate enough that she showed up to the dinner with a headache beginning to brew at the nape of her neck, and she cursed herself in her head at the fact that she let herself just ignore it. The room was filled with loud chatter and laughter, the other patrons enjoying themselves and letting loose with the alcohol provided to them. Her head was hung, hair falling around the sides of her face, allowing for a nice shield to dim the lights a little bit, providing her eyes a little bit of solace from the intrusive brightness. 

“Alright y’guys, I’m really tired and I think ‘M gonna head out now.” She could hear Harry announce to the table, pushing his chair back with his legs as he tapped on YN’s thigh with his right hand. Pushing himself up with his legs, he leaned down to whisper a quick ‘get your stuff’ to YN. She agreed without another word, and stood to grab her purse from where it was hung on the chair, pulling it up onto her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling chilly out of nowhere. Harry noticed this– of course he did– and draped the jacket he had resting on his forearm over her shoulders. YN and Harry both said their goodbyes, no one questioning YN packing up her things. Everyone knew that wherever she went he would follow, and wherever he went she would follow.

Slinging his arm over her shoulder, Harry gave one last goodbye from the both of them, before leading her to the back entrance to avoid paparazzi, knowing how much that would hurt her head. He could sense that she was feeling weird from the second she grabbed a seat next to him, but didn’t question her about it. As the night went on, he noticed how she kept blinking harshly, kept rubbing her temples with her fingertips, or rested her forehead on his shoulder for comfort. Suddenly, when she let her head fall, he realized exactly what was happening– she was having a migraine. 

Little to no words were shared between them during dinner in an attempt to catch up with their friends who they’d hadn’t seen in a long time, but they were still reminded of each others presence. Harry's been placing soft kisses onto her hair when he felt the weight of her head drop onto his shoulder while also keeping conversation to whoever he was talking to. YN linked their pinky fingers at the beginning of dinner, letting it hang between the two of them for the rest of the night until she had to rub her temples to try and ease the pain. While they didn’t really speak, they had conversations with their eyes that only they could understand. 

Harry initially checked on her when she lifted her head from his shoulder the third time, turning his head to look at her only to see that she was already waiting for him. He gave her a look that asked if she was okay, and she answered silently with a small head nod. Even though he didn’t buy it, he left it alone since he knew that they’d be leaving soon anyway.

When she finally got to the sweet solace of Harry’s car, a sigh of relief left her at the darkness inside. The interior of his car was all black with tinted windows, so the dim of the streetlights couldn’t bother her as much either. 

“Lovie, y’should’ve told me y’had a migraine, would’ve gotten y’home instantly.” Harry scolds in a low, quiet voice, a frown on his lips when he saw the way she slumped down into the passenger seat, head falling back onto the headrest. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Just looked like you were having fun.” She whispered, knowing her voice at full volume would hurt her head. 

“Y’are way more important to me than a dinner with our friends. We can see our friends whenever, and it would be much more convenient for the both of us if y’were healthy while doing so.” He grumbled, grabbing the steering wheel with his left hand and reaching over to rest his right hand on her thigh. 

“Well, I’m sorry to hear I’m such a burden,” She spat, voice still low. She opened her eyes when she heard nothing but silence to see Harry giving her a look to which she sighed at, grabbing his hand to twist the rings around on his fingers. “I know what you mean. Jus’ being stubborn right now.”

He snorts, “Trust me, I know. ‘S like it’s y’middle name.” He squeezes her hand at the soft laugh she gives, his heart pumping the slightest bit faster.

“Back to mine?” He whispers.

“Obviously.” 

— 2

YN rested her back along the arm of the couch, knees pulled up so that she only took up one cushion. Even if the rest of the couch was completely unoccupied beside her, she wanted to be as respectful as possible. The room was almost full by the way producers, writers, and managers scattered around, but she was only there for one of them; the boy in the booth. Harry’s been recording for about 2 hours now and she knew that he was overdue for a break, however, she also knew that he wouldn’t step foot outside of the booth until what he recorded was 100% to his liking, and they both knew that his perfectionist tendencies was his vice. 

She sat around for a bit longer, silently playing games on her phone mindlessly while periodically checking the time, until she heard a muffled shout come from the booth– the booth that she knew only had Harry in it. Looking up, she saw Harry with the studio headphones pulled down to hang around his neck, stepping to the side so he wouldn’t be shouting into the microphone. She rolled her eyes and stared at him in annoyance, waiting until he would eventually catch her gaze. Right when he did, he could already see the look in her eyes which made him look down ashamedly, taking the headphones from his neck to put on the mic stand, coming out of the booth like a puppy with its tail between its legs. He already knew he was about to get chewed out by the way she looked at him, almost disappointed by the way he seemed to lack self care when he was working. 

“Can we break for a minute, everyone? 30 minutes, tops.” She said loudly enough so everyone could hear her. Everyone immediately agreed and began to shuffle out of the room, leaving only YN and Harry in the space. Once the final person left and they heard the door click shut, she turned her head back to him with a distinct glimmer in her eyes. 

“Really, H?” She sighed, gesturing to him to join her on the couch. She slid her legs down and opened them a little, already knowing that he was going to fall and put his entire weight onto her. And she was right. The second she opened her arms, he slumped down into a sitting position at first, before laying down with his head resting just below her chin, head turned toward the soundboard with a pout on his raspberry lips. 

“I know, ‘M sorry,” He sighed, arms coming round to rest underneath her back in a loose hold, trying to get as much comfort as possible. “Jus’ hate when it doesn’t come out exactly how I envisioned it.” 

“I know, but overworking yourself and your precious voice doesn’t equate to anything and it especially won’t equate to perfection if you’re tired. Looking at it all, especially from my perspective, it jus’ looks like you’re being mean. Like, lashing out on all of those people… they’re tired too, bub. They don’t deserve this kind of treatment from you, especially not when you can help it. Are you seeing what I mean?” She tried to lay it out in the most delicate way possible while also knocking some sense into him, and it all started to make sense to him after all. 

“You do know you need to apologize to them, right?” She mutters into his hair, pressing the tiniest of kisses to his hair. 

“I know.  You’re right. I mean, you’re always right, but you’re especially right, right now. I dunno how y’always know me, or how you always know how t’make it better.” Harry grumbled. He hated this part. He hated when what he was envisioning didn’t come to full fruition right away. 

“It’s because I’m your best friend,” She could feel the way they both collectively tensed at her words, “It’s just what I do. I know you better than anyone else in this world and I have since we were toddlers. There’s no way you can be surprised now, ‘M basically your only friend.”

He laughed along with her, trying his best to mask the rejection he felt when he heard her say that she was his best friend. “Y’are, lovie. The only one who knows me like this.” 

She hummed. “The only one who ever will,” She said in full conviction. He lifted his head to meet her eyes, their faces close to each other. He could feel her breath on his face, and when he went to lift himself up a little to be able to meet her lips, she cleared her throat and nudged up a bit, creating distance between them. 

Tangling her fingers back into his hair, she awkwardly whispered, “Now, rest for a little bit, bub. I’ll wake you up when they’re ready to go.”

— 3

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for YN and Harry to have dinner with each other’s families, but there was something about tonight that made the both of them have a weird twinge in their stomachs that tonight would be different. It started off normal, really. They showed up to YN’s parents house, one of her hands pushed into the crook of his arm. YN had a bottle of wine in her other hand while Harry had his shoved into his pocket. Ringing the doorbell, there was something about the lack of commotion coming from inside that made them share a weird glance, before they shrugged their shoulders in unison and put it to the side when they heard the lock click. 

YN’s mom opened the door with a sheepish grin on her face, and YN already knew she was going to spew out an apology for something.  

“Hi, my loves, missed you. But, before you both come in,” Her mom wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist, “Uncle Rick is here.” 

YN and Harry both groaned, already dreading the dinner that hadn’t even started. They knew something was up when they didn’t hear the shouts of little kids wrestling each other to get to the door, and now it was completely explained why. 

Uncle Rick was her dad’s estranged brother who had only started coming around 5 or 6 Christmases ago, and the entire family has had a weird dislike for him since the beginning. He was creepy! As simple as that. He used to make weird comments on her and her sisters bodies, and he liked to talk to Harry about how much money Harry had, while also trying to push out a sob story so Harry would flit him some cash. It never worked, by the way. 

“That explains why the rascals weren’t here t’open the door,” Harry muttered, an annoyed and pouty look already on his face. He was excited to see the little ones, and they weren’t even here!

“Harry, stop with the look, don’t be a brat. Both of you, lighten up! I dislike him as much as you do but you two are the only ones who showed up for dinner. Your sisters bailed the second I mentioned him, so please just try to be nice?” YN’s mom scolded Harry. Since they’ve known each other since they were practically still in diapers, she treated him like her own and Anne did the same for YN. 

“I’ll try,” Harry grumbled, patting YN’s bum when her mom stepped out of the way to let them in. Unhooking their arms from each other, they pushed their coats off and hung them up. Turning to each other, they shared a look before inhaling deeply at the same time, entwining fingers. “We got this, lovie. I believe in us.”

YN only nodded, trudging forward with him trailing behind her, his arm lifting a bit from the small pull where their hands were conjoined. Walking into the kitchen, she greeted her dad with a side hug in an attempt to not let go of Harry, before pulling back to let Harry greet him as well. They stepped back and looked at her dad expectantly, a sigh emitting when he saw their faces. “Sorry, kiddos. Would’ve told you, but mom wanted you guys to be here to keep us sane.”

“It’s okay, dad, but you have to shut him down if he says something about me. You promised last time.” She sighed, leaning into Harry the slightest bit for no reason other than familiarity and comfort. 

“I will, Princess. I promise.” He shook his head fast, immediately abiding to the promise he made a couple of months ago. 

“Alright, bub, let’s go say hi,” YN mentally prepared herself as they walked over to the living room, humming when her mom told her to get him for dinner. YN subconsciously tightened her grip on Harry’s hand, him doing the same. “Hi Uncle Rick, you remember Harry, right?”

“How couldn’t I remember? Y’bring that bugger around more than anyone else, I woulda thought he got you locked down. Quite annoying, that one is.” Uncle Rick’s feet were propped up onto the coffee table, a feeling of disgust already swirling in both of their chest when they could smell the mix of beer and smoke oozing from his pores.

“Um– He’s literally right here, and you just called him annoying?” She said quite exasperatedly, a muffled groan leaving her lips. “Whatever, it’s fine. Mom wanted us to tell you that dinner’s ready.”

“God, finally! Your moms been taking forever, annoying how long she takes to get everything ready. I mean, isn’t that her job? To cook and clean? She does a pretty shit job at it if I’m honest.” The man groaned, struggling to even get off the couch. He walked past them and placed a hand on YN’s waist when he passed by, making her jump and twist into the front of Harry’s body. He caught her with ease, letting go of her hand to wrap his arms around her body. He could feel how tense she was, her unease and anger radiating off of her in waves. 

“Fuck. My. Life.” She muttered, leaning her face fully into his chest, banging her forehead against it with each word. Harry hummed, placing a few kisses onto her head to conceal the fact that he too, was bubbling with anger. 

“Gonna kill him, lovie. The fuck was that, anyway? Calling me annoying when I’m right here? 5 feet away from him? Not a lot of cogs turning in tha’ one’s head, I’ll tell ya,” Harry snorted, trying to relax his best friend a little bit. “Calm down, babe, practically shakin’ in m’arms.” 

She sighed, nodding into him. Comfort slowly seeped into her when she felt the gradual pressure of his arms behind her back. “I know, I’m sorry. Thank you for being here, though, you’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.” 

Harry isn’t afraid to admit his heart shatters the tiniest bit at this. He even goes far to unwrap his arms from her frame prematurely, plastering on a fake smile before she can see the frown he had on. “‘S what I’m here for.” 

A confused look made its way onto YN’s face, wondering what she said wrong to make him let her go. Opening her mouth to ask, she shut it right after she heard her mom call to them.

“Kids, come eat now!” She shouted.

“Coming!” YN called back, giving Harry one last look, a small look of hurt in her eyes, before pivoting on her heel to walk to the dining room. 

They sat down, Uncle Rick at the head of the table with YN and Harry on one side, and her parents on the other. Harry frowned when she didn’t scooch her chair over a bit to be closer to him, and he looked at the amount of space that was between them. Taking initiative, he moved his chair over and rested his hand on her thigh, YN grumbling under her breath but grabbing his hand anyway and interlocking their fingers. Although he was right handed, he’d sacrifice his dominant hand to hold hers any day. 

The four of them talked easily, Uncle Rick staying out of the conversations mainly, but he hummed or protested every so often to give pieces of mind (even though it was severely unneeded).

“So, YN, I heard that you graduated a couple of months out of medical school? How’d that go? Normally girls your age sleep around to graduate from something so difficult, hm?”  Uncle Rick commented disgustingly, food spewing out of his mouth since he was talking with his mouth full.

“Um– sorry, what?” YN choked on the wine she brought, a fiery look already in her eyes. Her parents’ expressions dropped instantly, her dad already trying to sputter out an apology.

“If you’re implying that I slept with the higher ups to graduate then I’m sorry, you’re dead wrong. I worked so hard to get to where I am now, and maybe if you hadn’t been estranged, mind you, we didn’t even know who you were, then maybe you would’ve noticed. Or maybe, you’d still be the same sleazy prick you’ve always been. Either way, it’s no bother to me, I know how you feel after all. The way you try to subtly touch me and my sisters, we all notice it, but we’ve been biting our tongue for so long, because you know what? You’re family. But I’ve honestly had enough of it. Mom, Dad, me and H are leaving, thank you for dinner, but I really, really can’t.” She spewed out without missing a beat, tugging Harry up with her. He turned his head to look up at her, but he could see the upset look in his eyes and stood up without another word. He let go of her hand to go around the table to kiss her moms cheek and to clap her dad on the back. 

He walked over to the threshold to leave, before deciding to give a little to this conversation as well. “Y’know, Uncle Rick, I tried m’hardest to be respectful as well, and I always wanted t’make a good impression, especially since I was with my best friends family, but I’ve been here f’longer than y’have to know that they’d love me either way, so I’ll just say this before I go; I didn’t mind when you’d make comments about me, but it’s another thing when y’making weird comments about her. She’s everything t’me, m’soulmate, really, and I feel bad that you’ve probably never had one. It would explain why y’so miserable, wouldn’t it?” 

Rick tried to say something, but was quickly cut off. “And I pity that you’ll never get to see how wonderful YN is. I really do pity y’for that. She’s incredibly smart, beautiful inside and out, and y’threw away the chance to have something amazing with her. So for your own benefit, I hope something changes f’you so you can get t’know her. But if not, don’t worry, really, we’re very fine off without you, anyway. Goodnight, Y/M/N and Y/D/N, it’s been wonderful seeing y’both again. ‘M sure we’ll be back soon in better circumstances, I hope.” 

And with that, he leaves the kitchen, leaving the three of them in awe.

Grabbing the both of their coats, noticing how YN had forgotten hers, he slammed the door shut and stalked quickly to the car, noticing how she was already in her assigned seat (He’d always joked about how she was the prettiest passenger princess), gnawing on her lips as glimmering tears lay stagnant in her eyes. He walked faster when he clocked this, knowing that her biting her lips was an anxious tic of hers. Popping open the door, he sat and settled into the driver's seat as fast as possible, turning on the ignition to power on the heater as quickly as he could. 

She turned her head to him, and he grabbed the back of her head in a tight hold, his other hand wounding around her waist. Sobs starting to fill the car, followed by soft shushing by Harry. 

“It’s okay, bub, y’so okay, I’m here, it’s okay.” He reassured, heart clenching at the gutwrenching sobs that left her. 

“Love y’so much, you’re s’perfect, and he’s so so wrong. You’re m’best friend in the world, the best person I know... Precious girl, wish y’saw yourself the way I see you.” He placed the softest of kisses to the side of her head, whispering sweet words to her until her sobs calmed and he felt her move her eyes from his shoulder, resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“I love you, H, no one I trust more in this world than you,” She whispered, pulling back to lay her temple on his cheek. Pulling back a little more, they now looked at each other, his eyes searching her watery ones. Their breaths hitched when they realized just how close they were to each other, knowing that if they were to move even an inch their lips would touch. They both moved forward a little, before jumping away from each other when Harry’s elbow pushed a little too hard on the center of the wheel, the horn honking. 

A shy laugh left her lips as she spun back to face the windshield, a soft blush coating her cheeks. “Home?” 

Harry cleared his throat, nodding slowly, a smile growing on his face when he realized that she referred to his house as home. “Yeah, bub, let’s go home.” 

— 4

“Harry! YN! Come in, come in!” They smiled at her friend Alex, who was already noticeably drunk, a pink flush on her cheeks. As much as they didn’t like parties, they decided to show up to Alex’s birthday party, the decision hard for the two of them since they knew it would pretty much be like a party at a frat house. Alex pulled on YN’s hand, dragging her inside to the party, Harry being tugged along as well when he grabbed YN’s outstretched one. They get dragged to the kitchen, being heavily encouraged by Alex to make a drink, before running away when she gets distracted by another one of her friends. 

“I guess bartender Harry’s making an appearance,” Harry shrugged, “What can I make f’you, bub?” 

She tilted her head, thinking it over. “My usual, please.” 

“One cherry vodka with sprite coming right up, sweets!” They talked for a little, giggling when Harry had opened a fresh liter of Sprite to make sure it was safe, which started spewing everywhere and in turn, all over his white shirt. “Fucks sake!” 

“Messy boy.” She giggled, taking the drink with a gracious smile. She took his hand to lead him to the living room, finding a few of her friends and talking to them, also making conversation with Harry who they knew because of how many times he’s met them. When YN had thought about it, she realized that he really is there every single time she goes out with her friends. It’s like she had her own personal bodyguard. 

After a few of her friends had come and gone, she placed her now empty cup on the counter that Harry was resting his back on, trying to stabilize himself as she relaxed herself into his body. “‘M gonna go up and use the bathroom real quick, will you be okay down here?” 

“Of course I’ll be okay, but you be safe, bub.” He sent her away with a pat to her bum, a squeal leaving her lips. He watched her walk away with a smile on his face, not even realizing how lovesick the grin must’ve looked. A poof of blonde hair in front of him distracted him from her figure, and when he looked down, he saw a girl with curled and messy blonde waves, thick eyeliner paired with red lipstick that’d grown messy throughout the night. “Hi?”

“You’re so hot.” Blondie commented bluntly. He stepped back to create some space between them, sliding his arm out of her rough grip. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason why her hands felt like sandpaper on his tanned skin, but it felt like he’d just been burned with a flat iron. 

“Oh, um… thank you? That’s very sweet, but I’ve got a girl-” He started. 

“She doesn’t need to know…” She purred, and disgust filled Harry’s face. 

“I’m flattered, but I really do have a girlfriend, and she’s here with me tonight, I’m not comfortable with this, ‘M sorry.” He tried again, but every time he would take a step backward, Blondie would take a step forward. Can she not take the hint?!

“Is the girlfriend in the room with us?” She started to get annoyed. A small weight lifted from his chest because he thought maybe if she got tired of him, she would just leave. He tried to wait for this plan to work, but he realized he didn’t even need to when he saw his precious girl descend down the stairs. Her eyes caught his, and he tried to iterate in his eyes that he needed help, and fast. She noticed and tried to go down the stairs a bit faster, not even caring if she stepped on someone. She walked fast to close the distance between them, burrowing herself in the space Harry provided when he lifted his arm as she was on her way over. 

“Hi baby,” YN started, pecking a kiss to his cheek sweetly, before turning her gaze to the girl in front of Harry. “Oh! I’m so sorry, that was so rude of me! Hi, I’m Harry’s girlfriend, YN. And you are…?” 

Blondie stared at YN’s outstretched hand in confusion, rolling her eyes and flipping her messy blonde hair over her shoulder, whacking YN in the face with the tips as she walked away. YN pulled a face of disgust, Harry immediately brushing her face off softly with his hand.

“Fuckin’ bitch, thinks she can take y’from me,” YN muttered under her breath, quiet enough to the point that even Harry himself couldn’t hear, which said a lot since they were practically telepathically connected. 

“Hm?” Harry questioned, but she didn’t say a word. 

“Nothing, just crazy to think that these girls think they can get you without getting through me first, that’s all.” She smiled up at Harry innocently. 

He snorted. “I send my luck out to anyone who even ends up trying. Thank you for saving me, bub. I owe you, big time.” 

“Just take me home now. Can we watch a movie?” 

“Anything f’you, Sweetheart.”

— 5

They didn’t really like these galas. 

To be honest, it wasn’t really their scene and they’d much rather be at Harry’s house, cuddled on the couch with her feet on his thighs, his fingers digging into the heels and soles of his feet mindlessly. 

They were in matching outfits, a silky emerald dress hugging her body whilst also accentuating her curves. Harry was clad in a velvety dark green suit, a black button up buttoned to just the middle of his torso matching her black YSL purse that she got as a graduation gift from him (among many other things against her wishes). They walked into the event arm in arm which wasn’t unusual for the pair. She tended to be his date to these once in a while events he’d agree to going to. The two had already walked in whispering and giggling about how they caught Glenne and Jeff sucking face in a darkened hallway near the entrance. 

Harry found a couple of his friends he’d made while in the process of making the album, YN standing close to his side with a polite smile on her face. After a couple of minutes, she’d become thirsty and, unnoticeably to anyone else, tapped her fingers on his forearm that her hand was hanging on. He looked to her, a soft but questioning smile on his face, and she scrunched her nose, clearing her throat to speak. “‘M gonna get a drink, bub. Getting a little thirsty, do you want anything?” 

He shook his head, turning fully to face her. She unhook her hand from the crook of his arm, nodding toward the bar. “D’you want me t’come with you?” 

She shook her head no, already stepping back to move towards the bar. “I’ll be okay, jus’ keep an eye on me in case I need saving, yeah?” 

“Of course, only have eyes f’you anyway.” He unashamedly flirted, chuckling at the bashful look on her face, turning her gaze to anything but him to will away the blush begging to make itself known on her cheeks. 

“Cheeky boy, I’ll be back.” She smiled, shaking her head. He pulled her in a little, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before sending her away, following her figure with his eyes to ensure she was safe on the less than eight feet walk to the bar. Once assured she was there safely, he turned his gaze to his gaggle of friends, making small talk with them, nothing more than work and the weather. He’d shared a couple of laughs before his brain made itself aware that his other half wasn’t back to his side as quickly as it would normally take her, and he turned his head to look for his girl– not his girl, but– no, she was his girl. They’d both known it anyway. 

His heart dropped to about his toes when he saw her turn her head too, a quick panicked glimmer in her eyes. He was unsure if he was reading her correctly, but when he kept his gaze trained on her for a little longer and watched as she gave him the same panicked look, he knew she was in trouble. She looked back forward, trying to be as polite as possible, and he excused himself from the group in the blink of an eye. Striding over as fast as his legs would allow, he slowed his pace down a little to not look suspicious to any onlookers. He found her quickly, her head turning once more, a now relieved and slightly amused look in her eyes. Clocking the creepy looking guy standing in front of her, he said fuck all to looking suspicious and picked up his pace once more. 

He closed the distance between them quickly, pressing his front against her back gently, trying his best to not be overbearing. The heat radiating from his body automatically calmed her, feeling the way he let his arm snake around his waist to let his hand sit on the small space between her hip and her waist, a large tattooed hand resting on her tummy. She placed the drink onto the bar, laying her cold hand onto his warm one. He leaned towards her head, kissing her hair and humming when she leaned her head a bit into his lips. 

“Hi m’love, who’s this?” He asked while tilting his head down to look at her, finding her eyes to send her a message to go along with him. She looked up too, reading his eyes instantly and knowing what they were going to do. Just like they did at the house party, they were going to fake date for a little bit. This was him returning the favor.

“Hi baby, this is Jack, Jack, this is my boyfriend– um… Peter.” She giggled, not being able to think of a better name. “He said that he’s Jeff Azoff’s personal assistant,” Looking toward the guy who shriveled into himself with fear, a smirk present her lips. Obviously they both knew that Jeff didn’t have a male personal assistant– Glenne had given the job to her friend’s daughter, and they were just as close with her as they were Glenne herself. “He even said that he’s gotten to know Harry Styles quite well himself, also offered to take me to meet him after this event, isn’t he so sweet?” 

Harry had to lift a hand to rub his lips to prevent himself from laughing. “Oh yeah, darling, that would be wonderful. Think I can tag along with you? I’m a huge fan, and would love to meet the guy. Tonight might not be the best, though, I heard he’s at a fancy event or something.” 

“Oh, of course, baby, how could I forget? Could I have your phone? I could get Jack’s number so we can arrange something,” Turning to fully face Jack, she giggled a little at the way his complexion now was pale like he saw a ghost. The three of them knew he’d been caught in a lie. She felt the weight of his phone on her hand and pulled it up to her face, her face ID unlocking it instantly. “What was your number?” 

Jack stumbled over his words. “I- um… Uh- I just– Forget it.” Scrambling away as fast as he could, the two laughed together as she turned in his hold. She moved her arm down to drop his phone back into his pocket. She wounded her arms back up to place her arms on his biceps, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Boyfriend, huh?” He grinned, resting his chin on the top of her head when she dropped it onto his chest, a groan leaving her lips.

“You started it!” She whined, lifting her head back up to meet his green eyes.

“I know, I know. Can’t believe it took you a Rory imposter to call me y’boyfriend, though. Been waiting forever for that, really. Sounds pretty coming from y’lips, if I’m honest.” A sigh tumbled from his lips, trying to subtly let her know what he was feeling. 

“Me too. In our very own romance book, eh? Fake dating trope and all.” She giggled, lifting her arms to wound around his neck, obviously picking up on what he was putting down.

They were finally having their moment. 

“Gonna let me make it real, Sweetheart?” He whispered, ducking his head down to be level with hers. 

“God, hurry up with it will you? Been waiting for this since we were teenag- oh!” She was cut off by his lips on hers. 

It was natural. Of course it was. 

The way their lips met made her truly believe in the romance books she was just joking about not even a second ago. She could taste the sweetness from the cookies they snacked on in the car on the seams of his lips, softness from the chapstick he borrowed from her still moisturizing his lips. He could feel every dip and crevice in hers if he focused enough– as if he wasn’t completely drowning in all of her. Her perfume, her hands on his neck, the taste of her lips. 

Pulling away with a quiet smack, he grinned as widely as humanly possible, bunny teeth making its full appearance, as well as his dimples. He placed another sweet kiss to her nose, making her scrunch up her face.

“Fuckin’ finally. So in love with you, sweet girl, m’best friend.” 

“Mm, love you, H.”

[b33zlebubz]

That last ask inspired me so how about reader gets REALLY bad migraines and just disappears for the night, missing dinner and then breakfast the next morning. The team goes to investigate!

yet another drabble I wrote under the counter at work oupe

TAGS: unedited, silly shenanigans, fluff, platonic found family, no content warnings RECKLESS ABANDON MASTERLIST

It seems they all suddenly want to pay you a visit and you couldn’t be more annoyed.

All the stress of everything seems to have all caught up to you at once.  With the lights too bright, your stomach attacking your insides, and the invisible band that seems to be continuously tightening around your skull—you’re practically bedridden.  

Slowly, the team begins to notice, and it starts with Price.  You’re not at dinner and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

He figures, at first, you’ve fallen asleep.  You don’t answer the door when he knocks so he leaves you to get some rest—knowing you need it.  He shoots you a text to let you know that him and the others will be busy with briefings and training the rest of the night to which you respond, hours later, explaining your predicament.  

The next day, Gaz is at your door.  His knock is softer than Price’s.  This time, you sigh and answer from your bed.

“What?”  Your voice is gravelly and muffled by the pillow your face is pressed into.

“Heading off-base for breakfast if you wanna come along,” he says, before adding, “Soap and Ghost are with me.”

“I’ll pass.”

There’s muffled whispering on the other side of the door.  British concern and Scottish protest.  Then, Ghost’s voice comes through the door.

“You alright in there, kid?”  

“Fine,”  you answer.  “Sick.”

Deciding not to press, they all decide to leave you alone for the time being—their voices fading to hush whispers as they disappear down the hallway.  You’re quick to sink back into a restless sleep, the uncomfortable cot stiff on your back and the pillow too flat for your neck.  Your peace doesn’t last long, though, because about two hours later you hear another knock.  

You wait for the sound of a voice, or maybe a second knock, but they never come.  Instead, there’s just the shuffle of a bag.

Your curiosity, momentarily, outweighs your pain.

Slowly you get to your feet.  Deciding against the dreaded lightswitch, you grab for your phone and use the light of your lockscreen to guide you to your door.  Then, slowly, you turn the doorknob and peak outside.

Soap is crouched in front of your door.  Surprised, he freezes in the act of placing a plastic bag on the ground—and you both just stare at each other for a moment.  

“What are you doing?”  You ask slowly.

He scoffs.  Instead of leaving the bag on the ground, he tosses it to your chest and you catch it.

“The Captain said you were havin’ migraines,”  he pushes himself to his feet.

“So?”

“So—I know the shit they’ll give you down at the med-bay doesn’t do fuck,”  he gestures to the bag.  “So me and Gaz went and got you shit that does.”

You eye him suspiciously, the very prospect of him doing something nice for you foreign and off-putting.  You’re shocked, to put it simply, after having done nothing but fight with him since you’ve arrived on base.  When you don’t immediately reply, Soap takes a breath.

“Anyway, I have shit to do,” he shoves his hands in his pockets before he turns to leave.  “And you’re welcome.”

You stare after him for a moment, still processing the interaction.  It’s only when he’s sauntered off down the hallway do you retreat back into your room and open the bag, expecting cheap, off-brand Tylenol or maybe some tea.  Instead, what you find causes you to let out an audible sigh of relief.

Excedrin, a water bottle, and a cold compress.  Thank fucking god.

[songbirdseung]

safe with you / park sunghoon

synopsis: walking in the late of the night by yourself isn't always the safest time

pairing: idol!sunghoon x reader

warnings: stalking, harassment, anxiety, fear

wc: 600

Maybe if you weren't such a good friend, you probably wouldn't be in this predicament.

You were currently speeding up your steps towards the darn convenience store because your friend needed Tylenol for her horrid migraine.

It just so happens that someone has purposely started following you, a random stranger you have never met before.

Your breathing was getting heavy, sweat started to form on your forehead as well as tears forming in your eyes.

Luckily, you made it inside the store, but looking back, the guy with a hood and mask on also stopped, waiting on the chairs provided outside.

You hold onto your chest and try to calm down when you suddenly hear someone clear their throat. You turn to see a tall, well-dressed guy standing a few feet away, concern etched on his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, stepping closer.

You nod, but your trembling hands give you away. "There's a guy outside," you whisper, glancing towards the entrance. "He followed me here."

The stranger follows your gaze and spots the man sitting outside, his expression hardening. "Don't worry, I'll help you."

He gently takes your arm and guides you towards the back of the store. "I'm Sunghoon, by the way. What's your name?"

"Y/N," you reply, your voice still shaky.

Sunghoon looks around the store, then back at you. "I don't think it's safe for you to leave alone. How far is your place from here?"

"About ten minutes," you say, your voice wavering.

Sunghoon nods thoughtfully. "Alright. I'll walk you back and make sure you get home safely. Just stay close to me."

You nod, feeling a bit more secure with his presence. Together, you head towards the entrance. Sunghoon gives the man outside a hard stare, and the man looks away, seemingly intimidated.

As you step out, Sunghoon positions himself between you and the stranger, offering a comforting smile. "Let's go."

You walk down the street, your heart still racing, but Sunghoon's calm demeanor helps to steady your nerves. He keeps a protective arm around you, guiding you through the busy streets.

"Thank you, Sunghoon," you say after a few minutes of walking. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Sunghoon shakes his head. "It's no problem, really. I'm just glad I could help. Do you know that guy?"

You shake your head. "No, I've never seen him before. He just started following me out of nowhere."

Sunghoon's grip on your shoulder tightens slightly, a reassuring gesture. "Well, you're safe now. I'll make sure you get home without any more trouble."

As you near your building, you feel a wave of relief. "This is it," you say, pointing to the entrance.

Sunghoon stops and looks around, making sure the coast is clear. "Okay, let's get you inside."

You both walk up to your door, and you fish out your keys with trembling hands. Sunghoon stays close, watching your surroundings carefully. Once you're safely inside, you turn to him, your heart filled with gratitude.

"Thank you so much, Sunghoon. I really appreciate it."

He smiles warmly. "I'm glad you're safe, Y/N. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease. "I will. Thanks again."

As Sunghoon turns to leave, you call out one last time. "Stay safe, Sunghoon."

He glances back with a reassuring smile. "You too, Y/N. Take care."

As the door closes, you finally allow yourself to breathe deeply, feeling the tension of the day begin to melt away. Knowing Sunghoon was there to help made all the difference, and you silently thank the universe for sending him your way.

[misshoneyimhome]

we all know willy is cool, laidback, nothing could ever bother him? could we get him with a reader that is the polar opposite? like someone who is anxious all the time, nervous and is pessimistic? and then their whole relationship could just be willy teasing them and purposefully stressing out the reader? and then the news of him possibly having severe migraines where reader goes into full nurse mode and treats willy as a baby and now he has to be serious and try to calm them down

Oh, I really enjoyed this idea, babe! 🤗 Truth be told, this would be so me - at least the nervous and anxious part 🙈 Willy's definitely way too chill and relaxed for his own good, so, of course, we need her to take good care of our man 🤍✨

Please, I hope you enjoy this - probably overly fluffy fic 💕

Tropes & warnings; no warnings - it's just fluff; anxious!girlfriend, cheeky!willy, William Nylander x reader;

Word count; 2.2K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

➼｡ﾟ

You complete me I William Nylander

“William Andrew Michael Junior Nylander Altelius! You really need to get ready - now!” you shouted through the condo, trying to prompt your boyfriend to hurry up and prepare for tonight’s match.

It was a typical situation. You had set the alarm so you both had plenty of time to get ready. You had even set several additional alarms to ensure William would be ready to leave before he was needed at the arena to gear up, while you had your own alarm for when you needed to leave to meet up with the other hockey girlfriends before the match.

“Willy! You’re going to get stuck in traffic if you don’t hurry up!”

“Take it easy, babe,” William chuckled as he joined you in the kitchen, almost dressed in his pregame suit, buttoning up his shirt and placing a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll just take the metro.”

“The metro?” you questioned, picking up his tie from the counter.

“Yes, you know, that form of transportation that sort of looks like a train and takes you from one station to another,” he explained mockingly with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes as you wrapped the silk fabric around his neck to tie the knot. “But… what if you get recognised? What if fans come up to you and want autographs?”

William chuckled again. “Then I’ll give them an autograph,” he said simply. “But they usually don’t - I mean, most of them just respect it when I have my headphones in.”

“But Willy…” you began but trailed off. You weren’t really sure what you were so worried about. William was a grown man and had taken public transport countless times, yet as always, you were mentally preparing for the worst. “What if the train breaks down or something? What if you’re late because someone won’t leave you alone?” You tightened the knot around his neck as you finished tying the tie.

But once again, William simply laughed as his hands grasped your arms. “Baby, nothing’s going to happen. I’ll be on time – in fact, there’s a better chance of that than if I get stuck in traffic trying to get to Downtown,” he explained with a smile. “You don’t always have to worry.”

You nodded lightly, well aware that he was right. “I’m sorry, I suppose I just always want to make sure everything’s alright with you,” you looked up at him with a hint of concern in your eyes.

“And I love you for that, more than you know,” he said, stroking his thumb over your lower lip before gently placing a kiss on it.

And as if his touch had a magical effect, you simply melted into it, slowly deepening the kiss a little. Your mouths moved in sync, your fingers toying with his tie as his hands moved to your hips and gently pressed your body against his.

It was a moment of pure joy as you and William stayed connected, savouring the love and passion between you. However, as you felt William’s tongue press against your lips, asking for permission to enter, you knew what he was trying to do. So, you swiftly pulled away, catching your breath.

“Willy - you really need to go now.”

Your tone was sharp, almost commanding. Yet William still grinned, holding his hands firmly on your hips.

“Hmm, then we’d better finish this when I get back home.”

His words were nothing but flirtatious and cheeky. And you couldn’t help but feel a tingle of anticipation in your lady parts for what the two of you might be doing later. But for now, he really needed to get going.

So, pushing him off with an eye roll and a smirk, you bid your farewells. And as William exited your home, gently adjusting himself in his trousers, he sent you air kisses and a flirty wink.

__

To an outsider, the two of you getting together and starting to date might not have seemed ideal - at least not at first.

You and William Nylander were simply polar opposites in many ways.

You were a planner - a woman who thrived on structure, always preparing for any situation that might arise. You were a realist - though some might say more of a pessimist - always worried, nervous, and anxious. You didn’t like surprises and definitely disliked not having control over a situation.

And this was something William was keen to challenge when he first met you.

Your smile had immediately captivated him, which was a rare sight given that you were at a birthday party for someone you didn’t really know. Yet your best friend had pushed you out of your comfort zone and introduced you to her new group of friends - the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey players.

You were definitely out of your depth, but William sought you out during the evening, and the two of you effortlessly fell into a deep conversation. It was the first time someone had made you feel so relaxed so easily. And all he did was talk.

And when he realised how nervous you were about uncertain situations, William naturally invited you out for ice skating on your first date. Not that you were completely incompetent on skates, but truth be told, you hadn’t really practised since you were ten years old and broke your wrist in a fall.

But William was determined to teach you, to push the boundaries of your comfort zone. And as it turned out, you had never been happier or laughed as much as when you were with him. Though you nearly fell several times, he just grabbed you and laughed along.

William was the best guy for you in so many ways. He always managed to lift your spirits, see the brighter side, and encourage you not to worry too much. And most annoyingly, he often succeeded.

Meanwhile, you had your own ways of completing him, even if you weren’t entirely aware of it. The point was that William felt you kept him grounded. Though he was naturally relaxed and composed, always knowing what to say, you made him feel secure. Your habit of preparing for everything before a match or an event, knowing the schedules, activities, and attendees, made William feel like he never had to worry. You ensured his bags were packed before a trip and that the fridge was stocked with snacks and food for when he returned.

In short, he didn’t have to be bothered about anything, and you were the reason for that. You were the reason he always seemed so composed and relaxed in public - the reason he could easily smile and laugh, knowing you always had his back. And not just with the practical stuff, but emotionally as well.

Sure, you were often the one to worry, but you were also known for being rather truthful. So, when you told him you were sure he’d do amazingly in a game, knowing how hard he’d worked, he always believed you.

But of course, your relationship wasn’t perfect. No relationship was. Your differences were often the cause of most of your discussions, yet you both quickly realised that your fights never cut deeply. Most of the time, it was simply you stressing about a given situation and William’s lack of worry.

And in those situations, William had a talent for pushing all your buttons. On purpose, of course.

When the two of you had arranged a dinner with some friends and players along with their partners, you naturally stressed out about organising everything, cooking the food, and setting the table. And William, with a giant grin plastered on his handsome face, found his best ways to play with fire.

Chuckling while you were running around like a headless chicken, he’d lean against the counter and casually say something like, “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you that Järnkrok might come over a little earlier.”

Your eyes would widen. “What?” you’d exclaim. “But I haven’t even cleaned yet… and you’re not dressed!”

Then William would just chuckle. “It’s just Järnkrok. He’s seen me naked hundreds of times – And I think he doesn’t care that I’m in sweats. Besides, he doesn’t care about how clean our place is.”

William knew it got on your nerves, yet he couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly you could dash from one room to another.

It was indeed quite comical, and once the evening was underway, you soon forgot all about the worry and stress. The dinner unfolded just as it should, with good company and good food. And William, of course, made a point of remarking how he had been right all along that there was no need to worry. So, you simply shook your head, rolled your eyes, and planted a gentle kiss on his lips.

___

But then, one day, the dynamics seemed to shift.

William had been experiencing severe headaches lately, and despite his attempts to hide it, you could see the pain he was masking. It hurt you deeply to witness him this way.

Your boyfriend wasn’t his usual self; his usual cheekiness and cheerful spirit had faded away. His confidence and composed nature seemed almost lost, and you felt powerless to help him.

Naturally, you tried researching online, reading about the best remedies for migraines, but it didn’t seem to bring you any closer to a solution. You spoke to the team's healthcare staff, who advised that William needed rest and recovery due to the stress he had been under.

So, when he returned home from training, you took charge. You found your nurse - not in a sexy way - and ensured he had everything he needed at all times.

You checked on him whenever he was awake and asleep, made sure he ate something, and most importantly, stayed hydrated.

Despite your efforts to stay calm and composed, to be the strong one for both of you, William quickly sensed your inner turmoil. He was accustomed to seeing you stressed about various situations, but this was different. For once, he realised he needed to be the one to remain serious and reassure you that everything would be alright.

This time, William couldn't afford to play around and tease you as he watched you on the brink of panic whenever you heard he still wasn’t fully recovered.

Certainly, there were questions like, “What about his career?” – “How does his health affect his physique?” – “Will he be able to return to the ice, and will it affect the rest of the season?”

But those were William's concerns, not yours. Your worries revolved around how William was feeling – Was he upset with you? Were you being too intrusive, and did he want you to give him space? Was he improving? Had he eaten enough and slept well?

In essence, you were completely dedicated to his care, and William could see the concern in your eyes every time you looked at him; all you wanted was to take away his suffering. He knew that. And he kept reminding you just how much he appreciated having you by his side.

And as you lay together in bed, simply trying to relax, William couldn’t help but smile, as he placed your hand on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat and the warmth radiating from his body.

“Thank you for being so good to me,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as your eyes met in a tender gaze.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Of course, Willy. I love you, and… I just want you to feel better soon. So, you can get back to playing hockey, doing what you love.”

But William shook his head gently. “Being here with you is what I love.”

Your heart swelled, touched by his words in a way only William could manage. As you lay there, looking into his beautiful blue eyes, you felt your emotions welling up.

“Willy, I’ll always be here for you,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but your feelings were evident, only making William smile even more.

“I know – but I still want to tell you how much I love you for it. It’s not easy, and… I know how you always worry, so I just want to reassure you that I’m alright – because I have you.”

William had always been smooth with words, but this time, you felt his sincerity straight from the depths of his heart. His voice carried no hint of teasing or jesting; it was pure and genuine.

Taken aback by his words, you offered him a soft smile in return. “Of course, Willy. I know I tend to worry a bit too much, but… it’s because I care.”

“I know that – and it’s one of the many reasons I love you so much,” he sighed softly. “I might not always show it, but I do care – especially about you. The way you always strive to make everything wonderful and perfect, even when you think it isn’t, amazes me. You’re incredible, and I’m not entirely sure what I’ve done to deserve you… You just… complete me.”

You gasped slightly, his heartfelt words catching you off guard. Never had you heard William speak so openly and lovingly. His words were filled with genuine care, and you knew deep down that he was right. Despite your differences, you truly did complement each other perfectly.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

a helping hand

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, handjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), jake has a big dick, my lame attempts at humor. please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: SURPRISE!! this is honestly so silly. and filthy. i wrote it in a frenzy last night after the idea randomly came to me. keep in mind it's all based off the vague info i have about him. i probably took a lot of liberties. it wasn't planned for my first jakey fic to be this, but oh well lmao! any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated :) xo

❀ part two

With an exaggerated, put-upon sigh, you gesture vaguely at Jake to stand and say, “Alright, let me see it.”

“What?” Jake asks, brows furrowed so deeply you worry he’ll get a migraine.

“You’re being awfully dramatic about this, so I need to see what all the fuss is about,” you calmly explain, though still skeptical.

Jake had showed up at your apartment with a look of pure despair, ranting about how yet another hookup went south when they took their clothes off and his would-be partner saw his cock for the first time. Said they almost begged him to leave and take his monster with him.

Surely his dick can’t be that big, right?

Jake hesitates, watching you warily as he contemplates, but then he sighs heavily and he rises to his feet, grumbling as he unbuttons and lowers the zip on his jeans. His thumbs curl under the waistband of both the jeans and his underwear before he unceremoniously shoves them down to mid-thigh. And then there’s only silence that follows.

You blink. You stare. You blink again.

Jake shifts his weight on his feet, settling his hands on his hips awkwardly.

Finally, you find your voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you wheeze, your voice tight and airy as you struggle to remember how to inhale.

Jake groans, covering his face mournfully. “I told you!” he wails. “It’s too big! And I know, I know—boohoo woe is me I have a big dick—but listen, this is literally a big fucking problem. I’m going crazy here. It’s just not the same with only my hands!”

Probably because not even both of your hands can cover your gigantic fucking penis, you think to yourself, but thankfully, do not say aloud. And, alright, maybe you’re exaggerating just a little, but Jake is still easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. Like, leaps and bounds bigger. The length of it isn't overly scary or anything, it's just… thick, and veiny, has the slightest curve to it.

And the thing is, you really shouldn’t be so surprised. In general, Jake himself is… big. He’s tall, and broad, and his hands are works of fucking art with his long fingers and wide palms, and his thighs—Jesus, fuck, his thighs. They deserve sonnets alone, just for how sculpted and muscled they are. Even Jake’s pecs are big. And you’re normally not a tit person, but Jake’s? You’ve cupped and squeezed and fondled them probably too many times to be appropriate.

The point is, though, that Jake is fucking hot. You have always thought so, in an offhand kind of way, like, a passing observation. Jake is also sweet and attentive, always periodically checking in on each person in his friend group, always willing to offer advice or a listening ear. He’s incredibly smart while also endearingly dumb about so much. He never asks for help with anything because he doesn’t want to be a burden, no matter how many times he’s told he could never be. So you’re pretty sure that Jake has used up all of his courage and vulnerability by coming to you with his problem. And you are flummoxed as to why he chose you, but you will not let this opportunity pass you by.

“Jake,” you start after a slight pause, “I have lube, patience, and willpower.”

And Jake says, “Huh?”

Which is fair, to be honest.

“Can you, um, put your dick away so I can think properly?” you ask after delicately clearing your throat.

Jake flushes and hastily obeys before taking his spot on the couch again.

You shift to face him fully, taking in his pink cheeks and inability to meet your gaze, and you feel bad for being so blunt, for speaking before thinking.

“Sorry,” you apologize, “I just wasn't… You know.” You wave your hand around in a way that you hope says, I wasn't expecting you to have the most perfect cock I've ever seen, when your mind blanks on how to continue.

Then again, maybe it's a good thing you couldn't figure out a way to say that verbally.

You clear your throat again. “What I was trying to say is that, um, maybe I could help you?”

Jake tilts his head. “Help me?” he repeats.

“Yeah, you know, like,” you say, licking your lips, “I could lend a hand. So to speak.”

It only takes a split second for him to understand what you're saying. His eyes widen, round like saucers behind his glasses, ears now burning a bright red as he sputters.

“What? You're offering to—no, that's. No, you're not—this isn't what I—fuck, I think I’m gonna pass out,” he stammers breathlessly, and honestly, he is starting to look a bit lightheaded. He shakes himself, closing his eyes, then takes in a deep breath and releases it slowly.

You quietly wait for him to gather himself, almost wishing you hadn't said anything. Almost, but not really, not enough to try to take it back.

Finally, he blinks his eyes open and turns to you. “I didn't come here expecting you to–to help me with my… problem.”

“Jakey,” you say on an exhale, smiling. “I know that. I offered because I wanted to.”

“But why?” he questions, bewildered.

You purse your lips, glancing up at the ceiling as you think about your response carefully this time. “Because you're one of my best friends, and you're hurting, in a way. I know it's not like, the worst thing in the world to just get off with your own hands, but I feel like getting shot down at the last minute every time you go to have sex can't be good for you mentally, either.”

Jake shifts his gaze to his lap then, mouth twisting into something disappointed, and that just confirms what you've said. He's started taking this to heart, beating himself up over something entirely out of his control. Sure, you wanna get your hands, mouth, and everything else on his dick, but a guy like Jake deserves to be brought to orgasm by someone else.

“Think of it as a favor,” you try, quietly, nudging his arm.

Swallowing roughly, he meets your eyes, searching. “Are you sure?” he asks after a long pause.

You reach out and grab his hand, twining your fingers with his. “I’m sure.” When he still hesitates, you squeeze his hand lightly. “You can say no, Jake.”

“No.” You start to pull away, and then he shakes his head quickly, holding on to you tighter. “No, I mean—I don't want to say no. I'm just. I'm a little nervous.”

His confession breaks your heart a little more. On the surface, this problem isn't all that serious, but underneath it all, Jake is craving connection. You’ll make sure he leaves your apartment more than satisfied.

“If at any point, for any reason, you want to stop then we’ll stop,” you promise.

He finally smiles, small and lopsided, and nods in agreement. You stand up, tugging him to rise with you and struggling to lift all that muscle mass.

“Come on,” you instruct, “let's go to my bedroom. We’ll have more space there.”

Silently, he follows you to your room, palm clammy against yours. The sun is shining through your windows, beams landing directly on your bed like some kind of spotlight. You let go of Jake’s hand to quickly shove your comforter to the foot of your bed then climb onto it.

“C’mere,” you murmur when you see him hovering unsurely beside the bed, patting the space between your legs.

First, Jake makes quick work of the button and zip on his jeans, before knee-walking to where you indicated. You both settle on the mattress, your back to the headboard and Jake getting comfortable against your chest and into the cradle of your spread thighs. The position really highlights your size difference, almost comically, and you have to swallow down all the things you want to say or sounds that threaten to escape.

Jake already has his jeans back down around his knees and quickly wiggles his underwear down to get his dick out. He’s jittery, his movements stilted and awkward, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“Relax, Jakey,” you softly instruct, reaching up to squeeze at his shoulders comfortingly. “It’s just me. I’m here to help, okay?”

“Right,” Jake replies on an exhale, nodding, “okay. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Your lips quirk slightly. “Good. I’m gonna touch you now, alright?”

“Okay,” Jake murmurs.

You hear him swallow, see his fists clench and unclench where they’re resting beside his thighs. Tentatively, as if not to startle him, you move your hands to Jake’s hips, petting over the exposed skin there. You hear Jake’s breath hitch then, so you keep going. You trail your fingers down the tops of Jake’s thighs, into the crease where they meet his groin and back up, just a touch higher than before, and you repeat the motion a few times until you’ve worked the hem of Jake’s shirt up to give you better access to his torso.

Slowly, Jake sinks further and further into your embrace, getting heavier and heavier the more you touch him. You are quietly loving the weight of him, the way his head is starting to loll and his eyelids beginning to flutter. You watch Jake bite his lip when you finally tease closer to his hardening cock, running your fingernails lightly across the trimmed hair above it.

You raise one of your hands, palm up, with a soft, “Jake,” as instruction.

He blinks down at your hand for a second, dazed, and then he’s carefully holding your hand and bringing it up to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to your palm. You feel your face grow hot as you hide your smile in Jake’s shoulder, though you’re positive he can feel it anyway.

“Jakey,” you say again, painfully endeared, “I meant for you to, you know, get my hand wet.”

“Oh.” He huffs a little at himself, but he doesn’t hesitate to bring your hand back up to his mouth and drag his tongue across your open palm.

Now it’s your turn for your breath to catch in your throat, locking every part of your body so you don't make any sudden movements or do something stupid. That gets more difficult to avoid when Jake, after thoroughly licking all over your hand, tops it all off by gathering the remaining saliva in his mouth, makes you cup your hand and then spits into it. For a split second, you think you’re about to come, which would be mortifying, so you’re glad when you’re able to reign in your hormones and offer a small thank you so you can get back to the task at hand. Literally.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you finally allow yourself to look over Jake’s shoulder, and honestly, you could weep at the sight before you. Jake’s cock is fully hard now, lying against his toned stomach, looking more intimidating than ever. Somehow his cock seems bigger, and thicker too. Your mouth waters, but you tell yourself to focus.

With your dry hand, you lift Jake’s cock, holding him at the base while you bring your other hand down to curl around the head. Jake gasps lightly, but otherwise stays still and quiet, at least until you begin stroking him. Slow and steady, you drag your hand down to the base of Jake’s cock, then add a little more pressure on the upstroke. Jake makes a punched out kind of sound, his knees jerking up slightly before settling back in place. A thrill rushes through you, powerful and giddy at the thought of Jake being at your mercy, of being the one to pull out even these tiny reactions. It makes you want to see just how loud you can make him. For now, though, you continue your steady pace, feeling more than hearing Jake’s sigh when you use your free hand to start touching him everywhere you can reach again.

What’s dangerous about this is that you could get used to it. You’re pretty sure you already are, and that could spell disaster for you, because you’re just supposed to be helping him out. This is only supposed to be offering Jake some relief after being unable to get off with a partner, to give him pleasure that isn’t by his own hands. You press your lips together and speed up your stroking, just a smidge, squeeze a bit more around the head and dig your thumb into Jake’s slit.

“Oh,” he utters, head falling back to rest on your shoulder, eyes closed tight and hips twitching up into your touch, chasing the feeling.

“Does it feel good, Jakey?” you boldly ask.

Jake nods and hums. “So good,” he affirms. He moves his hands to grip your knees as he adds, “Being so good to me, sweetheart.”

And, well. Fuck. You've been trying to pretend your pussy isn't wetter than it's been in a long while, but his words have you wishing you could close your thighs for some much needed friction. Subtly, you try to shift your hips and all it does is make you more frustrated. You let out a huff, breath fanning out against Jake’s neck. He shivers against you and you pause. Your lack of movement makes him whine, low and pleading, and it jolts you back into action.

Dragging your gaze down the line of his throat only makes you want to put your mouth on it, see if you can get him to shiver again. You peek at his face and see his eyes are still closed. Softly, so soft, you lean in and press a kiss to the side of his neck, and the way he responds is beautiful.

He whimpers, tilts his head back further to give you more room, his hips bucking up into your hold as you continue stroking him at a rhythmic pace. And you really can't say no to that kind of invitation. So, sufficiently sure that he doesn't mind it, you press even more kisses into his skin, trailing them up and down his neck and shoulder, as far as you can reach. The kisses turn wet, your tongue flicking out to taste him. Jake’s stomach muscles clench, and you quicken the pace of your hand up a bit, mouthing sloppily up his neck to his ear.

“Don't know how anyone could refuse you,” you mutter, your own breathing getting heavier to match his. “How can anyone look at your cock and not want to sit on it, Jakey? It doesn't make sense.”

He groans, planting his feet on the mattress so he has better leverage to thrust up into your fist, panting and letting out needy sounds.

“God, Jake,” you whine. You suck and bite a mark on his throat, pulling away once you're happy with it. “I bet you would feel perfect inside me,” you confess in a whisper.

“Stop,” he pants, and you let go of him in an instant, stomach dropping.

Before you can start to panic too much, Jake clumsily shifts around until he's on his haunches facing you, flushed all the way down his chest, eyes blazing behind his frames. You open your mouth to ask him what's wrong, but then he's gripping you under your knees and yanking. You fall flat on your back with a startled yelp and Jake is there to swallow the sound, kissing you like it's his lifeline. A moan rips its way out of your chest, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

He breaks the kiss, glasses askew, to ask, “Can I please fuck you?”

Any other time you'd snort at the politeness of such a vulgar question, but at the moment all you can do is nod, roughly tugging at his shirt until he gets the hint and removes it, almost knocking his glasses off entirely. It lands somewhere on the floor, along with his jeans and underwear a second later. You squirm once you see his body fully naked, core throbbing in need to have it against you, on top of you.

“You too,” he murmurs, reaching for your shorts.

You lift your hips to help him, biting your lip at the way he curses when he realizes you aren’t wearing panties. With a grin, you surprise him further by taking off your t-shirt and reveal you're also not wearing a bra.

“Would it totally ruin the moment if I say I’ve wanted this for way too long?” he wonders, eyes raking over your body, his hands joining soon after.

You smile softly and shake your head. “Not at all.” He returns your smile, but yours eases into something mischievous. “But what will ruin the moment is if you don't get your fingers in me to get me ready for your big cock.”

Jake’s smile drops. “Fuck,” he says with feeling.

To incentivize him, you spread your legs, hand tracing a path down to where you're dripping. He watches with blown pupils and a slack jaw. When you hum as your fingers lightly glide down your slit, he snaps into focus. He knocks your hand away to replace it with his own. You sigh at the touch of his calluses on your sensitive skin, tilting your hips up and moaning when he finally sinks one finger inside you.

Thankfully, he doesn't seem to want to waste time, thrusting his finger steadily. You've never appreciated how long his fingers are more than you are at this very moment. He works you up to three of them much too fast for your liking, but you understand the urgency he’s feeling, and you can't really deny that you're feeling it too.

“That's good, Jake, c’mon, please get in me already,” you beg, shifting restlessly.

“Shit,” he breathes, “okay, yeah, let me just—”

He shuffles closer, taking his cock in hand and rubbing it up and down your slit, the head catching on your opening, making you whine. He curses under his breath some more and starts pushing in. Your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out, brows furrowing deeply as he splits you open on his cock. When he bottoms out, you let out a sharp exhale that hitches in your chest, while Jake’s chest is heaving like he's run a marathon.

“So tight,” he mutters.

“So—” You hiccup through a desperate sob. “So big, oh my god, Jakey, baby, please move, I need you to move.”

His chin drops to his chest with a pained sounding groan, but he listens. He draws his hips back, cock dragging deliciously out of you, before he thrusts back in. You're not sure you've stopped making noise since he started pulling out, high and needy and hungry pleas for more, and he's barely even gotten started.

Every sensation feels dialed up to a million. You're not sure sex has ever been like this for you; like your skin is on fire, like you can feel your pulse throb through every limb, through every single finger and toe, but especially in your clit. Your nipples even feel more sensitive than usual as they brush against his chest. Your body is positively singing with pleasure.

And Jake… Oh, that sweet, precious man is in heaven. You know you're tight around him, warm and wet, the perfect place to fuck into, and now that he's finally getting what he's wanted he's not holding back. He's fucking you like he’s gonna be graded on it after. His hips slam into yours and he can't stop making noises of his own. Grunts, soft gasps, neverending praise over how you feel, how he's so happy this is happening, how he's never going to stop fucking you.

Your nails dig into the flesh on his back, dragging all the way down until you flatten your palms on his ass and squeeze. His thrusting falters for a second, but he finds his rhythm again quickly, dropping to his elbows so that he's even closer. He kisses along your collarbones, nipping at the base of your throat before sucking at the spot harshly. You moan brokenly and clutch at him tighter.

“Left my mark on you, too,” he declares, kissing the bruise he’s made, then kisses you properly, tongue sliding across yours and dipping into your mouth.

You're not sure how much longer you can hold back from touching your clit, your need ratcheting higher and higher, but you know Jake is right there with you. He's pounding into you roughly now, chasing his climax with determination. Reaching down, you swipe your fingers through your slick and use it to rub your clit, a whimper escaping you when you tighten around him from the added stimulation. Jake growls and speeds up some, hitching one of your legs up his side. It changes the angle just enough that he's hitting that spot inside you that has you crying out, a long warble of his name, fingers quickening their pace on your clit.

“Yeah, that's it,” he encourages. “Please, come for me. Come on, baby, let me see it, wanna watch you fall apart.”

All of your breath gets trapped in your lungs as warmth pools in your core and bursts outward, your pussy fluttering and clamping down on his cock. Your body shivers through your climax, thighs trembling unceasingly as Jake groans and fucks you harder, three, four more times before stilling. He comes with a loud moan, grinding inside you as he rides it out.

After a moment, he collapses on top of you. You grunt at his weight, but smile tiredly at your ceiling, combing your fingers through his hair. You feel him press a kiss on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle, which in turn makes you clench and has Jake whining since he's still buried inside you. Gingerly, he pulls out, both of you hissing at the sensation. He runs a tender finger along the outside of your opening.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, concerned.

“No, baby,” you whisper.

He meets your gaze then, hopeful, still flushed with exertion and glasses slightly foggy. “Baby?”

You hum with a grin. “Yes. My big, beefy baby,” you tease. “I’m keeping you all to myself now.”

“You know, I think I just might be okay with that,” he replies, beaming in a way that puts the sunlight through your window to shame.

[maknaeswrld]

a life eluded | l.mh, h.js

wc: 6.5k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: pov hopping; anxiety/panic attack mentions; food/eating mentions; Bee (I still feel like they need a warning); all soulmates are gn (they/them pronouns) for sake of future storytelling; past life memories in italics; please please let me know if I missed anything🫶

if you’re new here, start from the beginning: a life forgotten

Soulmates can be a painful thing. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop yourself from running away. 

Riley had left you with a hug, two phone numbers hastily written on a paper towel, and a promise to meet up soon. You and Lia counted off ten minutes before leaving as well, hopefully giving you enough time for Riley and any possible companions to be long gone.

You thought the idea of reaching out to them would scare you, but the more you looked at the numbers, the more you wanted to talk to them. You assumed Bee was the one that had yelled at your soulmates, drawing their attention off you long enough to make a break for it. 

They’ve been looking for you for a long time.

Riley’s words found themselves on repeat in your head, not letting up even slightly. How could they have been looking for you if they’d never met you? They couldn’t possibly have known you. But they still noticed your absence. Enough that it weighed on them, caused them to seek you out even without knowing who you were.

They’ve been searching for their ‘missing piece’ about as long as I’ve known them.

Their missing piece. Not a burden, not a hitch in all of their plans, not some unforeseen unfortunate circumstance. You were included in their future long before you even knew of your past, they’d been attempting to seek you out for far longer than you’ve been avoiding ever finding them. In their minds you were the final piece of an extensive puzzle. Their final piece.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were typing both numbers into your phone and creating a group chat. 

Y/n: you didn’t tell me which number belonged to who so i just made a gc, I hope that’s alright.

Unknown Number: Who are you and how’d you get these numbers?

Unknown Number: shut up Bee, I already warned you about this. sorry Y/n, I was rushing a bit, this is Riley and the other number is Bee’s :)

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): WAIT!!! YOU’RE MINSUNGS THIRD?! THE ONE THAT RAN AWAY EARLIER?!

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): Bee istg

Y/n: uhhhh yeah, I suppose that’s me

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): I would’ve run away too, those idiots are so loud

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): you are actually not allowed to talk, I think the only person in existence that can rival Bin’s loud ass is you. the both of you together are my eternal migraine

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): SHUT UP WE AREN’T THAT BAD

You couldn’t help the laugh that wells up in you at their banter, after that you fall into an easy rhythm talking with them. They understand you in a way you’re not sure any of your friends ever have. 

It didn’t take even two days messaging back and forth for the three of you to make plans to meet for coffee, Bee going on about how unfair it is that you met Riley already. You thought you’d be nervous, you spent the whole morning getting ready waiting for the nerves to hit. These were the soulmates of not just two international idols, but close friends to your soulmates who were in the same group. Everything about the situation should be sending you into a spiral of anxious thoughts, but instead you felt more at ease than you do going to dinner with Lia. 

“You look hot, where are you off to?” Your neighbor asked as you were locking the door.

“Coffee with some friends.” It felt too natural, the way friends rolled off your tongue. You hadn’t even met Bee yet.

“Be safe babes.” Your neighbor smiled, entering her own apartment. You weren’t close with your neighbor, but you always looked out for one another. Living alone wasn’t always safe, so having someone who would notice your absence was always a comfort thing for you.

The coffee shop decided on was a twenty minute walk from your apartment, you spent the whole time thinking over everything. When you had found out about your soulmates, one of your biggest concerns was the fact that there were others like you, soulmates of idols who knew who they were supposed to be with and couldn’t get to them. Or worse, that there were friends of yours, people who were the soulmates of the people you knew you had some cosmic bond with, people important to you that you’d never get the chance to remember. 

Due to Stray Kids popularity, you got to have your memories with your soulmates members, the memories of how close you were to each of them as well in every lifetime, but knowing they had soulmates, that you likely were very close to their soulmates, that you couldn’t remember them, devastated you.

And now you were meeting two of them for coffee. The memories with Riley had already started to slowly trickle in after the short time you spent with them in the bathroom, you knew more would start engraving within your deepest memories after more time spent together. The two of you were close in every lifetime, it gave you hope that everything would work out in this one as well.

“Y/n!! Run!!’” Riley laughed, hand holding tightly on yours as the two of you sprinted away from the lady chasing the two of you with a broom. 

“Get out of here, street rats!” The lady called after you. 

After several twists and turns to make certain you were securely away from any possible danger, you both sat against a wall to catch your breath. You started giggling, causing Riley to look at you as if you’d grown two heads. 

“What are you-?” Riley trailed off as you produced two small pieces of bread you’d managed to snake while Riley distracted the mean lady. Riley’s eyes lit up before laughter filled the space coming from the both of you.

You each enjoyed your pieces of bread, savoring the taste and the feeling of something on your stomachs, just sitting in comfortable silence with one another. 

You’d shared your whole lives running the streets, keeping each other alive and moving, and you always thought it’d just be the two of you, until Riley found Chan and your lives got thrown upside down.

You stared at the sign of the tiny rustic looking cafe. It was the type of place you’d go to every day if you knew it existed. Now that you did, you couldn’t imagine not regularly spending time there. You knew deep down, if all went well today, you’d be spending a lot of time there with Bee and Riley.

A bell jingled above the door as you pushed it open.The whole place radiated comfort and you felt at ease instantly.

“Welcome in, I’ll be right with you!” A cheery voice called from what you assumed to be the kitchen.

“Y/n! We’re over here.” You found a table in a small nook surrounded by books where Riley and Bee were sitting, drinks already ordered. “We didn’t know what you might like and Sage already knows our usuals, but we were waiting for you to get food.”

Before you could take one of the open seats between the two, a short person with a bright smile, freckles, and long hair brushed to a shine seemed to dance toward you, hands wiping at their apron, they reached one out for you to shake. 

“I’m Sage, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their grip was firm despite the dainty tinkle of their voice.

“Y/n.” You smiled in return.

“What can I get ya, Y/n?” 

You order your drink, you, Riley, and Bee also putting in your orders for food, and just as fast as Sage had appeared, they’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Taking your seat at the little table, you took a deep breath before looking up, only to find Bee and Riley already staring at you.

“So like, when are you gonna finally meet your boys? OW! Fuck Riles, what was that for?!”

Riley pinned Bee with a pointed glare. 

“Are you avoiding your soulmates?” Sage asks, gently placing your cup in front of you and taking the last seat at the table.

You turn beat red at the accusation. “Not exactly.” You mumble.

“Totally is. They found each other young so they’ve had five years together already and now this one seems to think they’re going to ruin everything, even though Min and Ji already know about them and have been looking for them.” Bee stated, sipping out of their own cup. “OW! Fuck, why are you guys always attacking me!?” This time, Bee glared at Sage instead of Riley.

“Because you make yourself an easy target. Listen, Y/n, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while owning this shop and spending way too much time people watching, it’s that no matter how hard you try to fight it, you’re meant to be with who you’re meant to be with. That's just the reality. If you were going to ruin their lives just by them finding you, you wouldn’t be their soulmate. Simple as that. Min and Ji have been in here a few times with Chris and Bin, they’re good ones, I guarantee you could never regret letting them in.”

“Your parents made a good choice with your name.” 

Sage grinned, gently lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s a fun name to live up to.”

With that, Sage disappeared into the kitchen once again. 

“They’re right though. I don’t think you could ever regret letting them in.” Riley smiled, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“Sage doesn’t know the boys are idols, do they?”

The way they called all of them by names Riley or Bee would refer to them as instead of any full name or stage name struck you as odd. Either they didn’t know or they were the bands inner circle, that thought making a strange sense of insecurity rise up your throat.

“Nah, Sage doesn’t really do technology and only really listens to the radio their grandfather had is his restaurant. They know next to nothing about the idol world, which is why the boys like coming here so much, it’s peaceful and off the beaten path.”

You nodded, sipping your drink. You could understand that, especially with the boys being idols with soulmates, a quiet coffee shop with next to no attention on it is the perfect place to be able to have uninterrupted time together.

Shifting in your seat to look around the small shop more, you found yourself wondering what your soulmates thought of the cozy shop and its somewhat eccentric owner. What were their regular orders here? Did they like having a regular order or did they change it up? You found yourself wanting to know how they decorate their rooms, if they like to read, what they like to watch. You wanted to get to know your soulmates personally in this lifetime, not just what you know of them from every life passed.

A few weeks ago, a few days even perhaps, that would’ve terrified you. You would have found yourself thinking of Jisung and Minho, and these thoughts plenty, but you always shut it down knowing it was fruitless, you wouldn’t get the answers anyways. But now that was different, now they knew you, now they wanted to get to know you just like you wanted to get to know them. Now everything was different, and the two men you love of your memories have a chance to become the men of your present if you so chose. 

While losing yourself in the thoughts, zoning out the conversation happening between the shop owner and your fellow Stray Kids soulmates, your eyes landed on a gorgeous trellis made of wood and covered entirely of vines and flora, reminding you painfully of the arch and altar at your wedding to the two men in one of the very first lives you had a memory of.

“Do not fret, Y/n. No one is going to show up to ruin your marriage tonight, and even if one were to try I am almost positive Changbin and Bee would stop them before you even knew about it.” Sage smiled at you over your shoulder in the mirror, helping you lace up the back of your outfit. 

“My father disowned me because of this wedding, it isn’t entirely implausible for him to not try and put a stop to it.” You sighed, worrying your fingers.

Sage pulled the straps a notch tighter than they needed to go, causing you to yelp and stare at your friend incredulously. “None of that.” Was all that was muttered before you were released and spun around, Sage’s hands finding their way to your shoulders. “Now, you are going to get out there, you are going to marry both of your incredible soulmates, and you are going to let your very oafishly protective elders stop anyone who threatens a bond as beautiful as the one you share with Minho and Jisung. Do you understand me?”

All you could do was nod, tears already welling in your eyes, as you pulled Sage into a tight hug. “Thank you, my friend.” 

“Oh goodness, have the waterworks started already?” Bee teased, leaning casually on the doorframe. “You look great, Y/n. And if you’re ready, so is literally everyone else.”

Squeezing Sage one last time, you smoothed out the non-existent ruffles in your clothes before exiting the building, finding Chan holding a bouquet and waiting patiently leaning against the outside of the tiny cottage. When he looked at you, the emotions welling in his eyes were all you’d ever wanted to see from your father, and while a part of you wished he would have accepted your soulmates, you're more than grateful for Chan stepping up to such an important role.

“Are you ready?”

“More ready than I have ever been for anything.”

And with that, you were led out into the field, to the altar put together with wildflowers and plants, to your soulmates eagerly awaiting you to join them, to the life you’d never regret despite what your father anticipated. 

Because standing there under the floral arch, Jisung’s hand in one of yours and Minho’s in the other, you knew you could never regret them in anything for even a moment.

Minho watched as his lover paced incessantly back and forth in the cutie dorms living room. 

Bee and Riley had informed them that they were in touch with Y/n, their third soulmate, and that they were going out with you for lunch today. Riley refused to tell either boy where they were going, knowing Jisung would show up without hesitation and that Minho would just to avoid leaving Jisung alone in any way.

“What if they decide they don’t want us?” Jisung finally spoke the words that had been weighing on both boys since you disappeared a few nights prior, and even more so since finding out you’d been in touch with Changbin’s and Chan’s soulmates.

If you were in touch with the other soulmates, you could have found Minho and Jisung easily at any point. If you were in touch, one of them found you that night, which means you were likely mere feet from Jisung, as he had been with Riley. There were questions flying through Minho’s head at the same rate as he could see them in Jisungs eyes, but he had to remain calm for his lover, if they were to both spiral, no one would be able to calm Jisung.

“They’re not going to decide that, Sungie. They just found out they have two soulmates, you can’t tell me it didn’t take us a while to process that one too. They’ll find their way to us when they’re ready.” Minho pulled the smaller boy into his arms, pressing gentle kisses to the crown of his head.

“What if they’re never ready, Min?” The youngers voice was soft and shaky, Minho felt his heart break at the sound.

“We can’t think like that, Ji. Y/n is having lunch with two of our family at this very moment, if they were never going to be ready they wouldn’t have agreed to that.” Minho tried to ignore the shiver that ran up his spine at saying your name aloud for the first time in this lifetime, he tried to ignore the peace brought to him just by your name alone. His hold on Jisung tightening, his head burying in the youngers neck. “We’re going to be okay.” He promised, ignoring the persistent what ifs echoing in the back of his head.

What if Jisung was right? What if you were never ready? What if you never chose them because of who they are in this life? As much as Minho wanted to negate those thoughts, memories of lives that turned out exactly like that made him question if this would be one of them. 

His hand tightened around their wrist, trying to pull them back to him. “Why do you keep running away?!”

“Because I have to!” You cried, finally turning to Minho, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I have to.” Your voice breaking on every word.

“You don’t have to. You can stay with me, we can figure it out.”

“Figure what out? Minho, soulmates are not the end all be all. As much as I would love to just run to you, run away from everything but you, I have responsibilities. I can’t just do what I want, not in this lifetime. We’ve found each other, awesome, great, we’re still in two completely different worlds. You’d be better off trying to find the one missing from our memories, you’d have a chance to have a life with them, to be happy with them. Do that Minho. Find our third soulmate, forget about me, and be happy. Because I can never be, that’s just not how this life played out for me.”

“You’re telling me that despite everything, you’re not choosing me?”

“God why do you have such selective hearing?! I don’t get a choice Minho. I never did! I was born into the fucking mafia, people don’t get to just walk away from that simply because they found their soulmate. 

“Soulmates are a weakness just waiting to be exploited, you’ll live your whole life constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly in danger, because of me. Is that really what you want for yourself? For whoever we’re missing? Is that the life you’d choose for someone else? Because I wouldn’t choose this life for anyone and I am begging you to leave Minho. Get out while no one knows, get out while there’s no chance for them to know.”

“But I’ll know.” He hated how broken his voice sounded even to his own ears. “And you’ll know.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he would listen to you, that he’d walk away and never look back. But all you found was a horrifying sense of finality.

Minho wanted to take it away, let you be free of this world you were forced into. He wanted to take your hand in his and never let go, no matter the danger that came with it. 

He watched as your face morphed from the helpless near tears girl into a cold and emotionless woman, and it terrified him that you had been forced to learn to shed all resemblance of emotion within a blink. 

“I will not ever choose you over my family in this lifetime, Lee Minho. Your life isn’t of importance to me and if you’re so keen to get yourself murdered trying to talk me into leaving with you, then so be it. I won’t come to your rescue.” Saying the words felt like driving a knife right into your own heart and twisting, the look on his face as his grip loosened on your wrist only adding to the immense guilt. 

Ripping your arm away from his grasp, you turned on your heel, head held high, tears threatening your lashes, and left him standing there.

Jisung felt like he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was pace around like a lunatic, and every now and again stop to stare at his hands. The hands that held you, the hands that let you go.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the way your eyes lit up, the way your smile outshines every star and sunrise he’d ever witnessed. He could hear the perfect harmony of you and Minho singing together, the way you didn’t miss a single syllable in any of his rap parts.

Jisung thought finding you would bring him peace, completeness, the sense of warmth he already knew with Minho, and for those few minutes he had you, you did. 

Now, Jisung figured just knowing you were nearby, knowing you were close enough that maybe he would run into you again would ease the pain in his chest at the memories flashing through his mind, but when Riley informed him that they were on their way to get lunch with Bee, and you, and refusing to tell him where they were going, he felt his heart shatter all over again. His breathing growing uneven at the idea of you being close enough to enjoy lunch with two of his closest friends, and yet nowhere near him. 

So Jisung paced. He walked back and forth and back again until he was dizzy, trying to rid his body of a pent up energy he had no idea what to do with. If he stopped, he assumed he’d collapse into a full blown panic attack, if that were to happen Minho would have to calm him down, and if Minho has to focus on keeping Jisung level headed, he won’t be able to grieve your absence too. 

Jisung knew he was spiraling, knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself out of it this time, but he had to pretend he was okay, he had to let Minho spiral if he needed to, which means he can’t. 

He tried to distract himself. He thought of Minho, of the way he curls into him in his sleep. How Minho nudges his hand, silently begging him to keep scratching his scalp when Jisung gets distracted and stops for any longer than five seconds. The memories of how the late afternoon light filters across Minho’s features, making him look like one of those beautiful paintings Hyunjin talks their ears off about. 

But within these thoughts of his incredible soulmate, flitters in you. The way you had a habit of playing with Jisungs hands, he wondered if you’d still do that in this lifetime. He fell into thinking of the way you would stick your tongue out and furrow your brows when you focused too hard on anything, from washing dishes to sewing up a stab wound. He wondered why he had memories of you sewing up stab wounds, and which lives those were from, what you were like in those lifetimes outside the flits of memories he was gifted from the short amount of time he got to be by your side in this one.  

No matter how hard he tried, everything kept coming back to you. Trying to distract himself by thinking of his other soulmate would lead to memories of him coming home to find both of you curled up together, fragments of time stilled in his mind of the two of you, smiling at each other, at him. He knew he would lose his mind if he were to be forced to remember you in every single way and never get to experience any of it outside of those few minutes he had on the street.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Your voice was like a melody to his ears, despite the harsh words echoing from it. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here.” He countered.

Despite the racing of his heart, the familiarity of you, he had a job. One that required getting through you at any cost. 

“Whatever it is you were sent here for, think very hard, is it worth the cost of your life?”

Jisung didn’t really put a cost on his life. He was raised and trained for one thing only, to carry out orders by any means necessary. And, as if you could sense that in him, you shifted your relaxed stance just slightly, preparing for an attack, but softened your features. 

“There is more to life than what you know, little one.”

At the nickname, he lunged, but it was as if you knew exactly what to expect, perrying and gently placing your hand on his arm, sending the both of you headlong into forgotten memories and lives. 

Coming to, Jisungs guard flew up. He didn’t move, didn’t attempt to attack you, but he shut down every possible emotion you could try to gather from him.

“I can show you a better world. One where you’d be in control of your own life, where you’d have an answer to what is and isn’t worth the cost of it.” 

Your words were gentle, everything about you seemed to be gentle. You softened your stance, returning to the relaxed position, no longer planning to attack him or counter any attacks from him.

“If you give me a chance, I could give you the world.”

“I think I want to meet them.”

Riley shot up from their position sprawled across your couch, Bee’s mouth dropping open in shock. 

“Are you serious?” Riley asked, searching your face for any sense of unease or dishonesty.

You’d been spending endless hours with the two, they’d quickly become your closest friends, aside from Lia. You’d also come to spend a lot of time at Sage’s cafe, quickly learning they are very much a piece of your many lives as well. You were still unsure of how exactly Sage fit into the grand puzzle of lifetimes spent with the same friend group, but you knew they did. Your suspicions only confirmed with Riley and Bee’s agreeance of having Sage within their past lives memories as well.

“Y/n/n, I need you to be so for fucking real right now, do you actually want to meet them?”

You’d seen Bee get serious about stuff before, they weren’t all jokes all the time, but the way they were staring at you at that moment, you knew you had to give the complete honest truth. Bee was protective, and while that insane protective streak has since expanded to you as well, you knew without a shadow of a doubt they’d evescrate you before you had a chance to even think about hurting Minho or Jisung.

“I’m terrified of it, that hasn’t changed. But maybe you’re right, maybe it will work out.” You smile at your friends. “I think I’m ready to risk finding out.”

It didn’t take even twenty whole minutes to get a meeting set up, Riley and Bee dragging you to your room to get you dressed and ready. 

“Is it really a good idea to do this now? I mean, it’s really fast, don’t they want time to like, I don’t know, prepare or something?” You’d been rambling the whole time Bee sat on your lap to hold you in place while fixing your hair. 

“No. Because ‘giving them time’ only gives you time to back out and the last thing we need right now is Ji going into another spiral because he thinks you don’t want them.” You could practically hear the roll of Bee’s eyes as they finally got off you, surveying their handiwork. 

Huffing, you accept your fate as Riley forces an outfit into your arms and shoves you into your bathroom, pulling the door shut.

After getting changed and taking in your appearance, you had to admit, Bee and Riley were good. You’d looked hot, almost to the point of it feeling like it was too much. Taking a deep breath and hyping yourself up in the mirror, you open the door to find Bee and Riley lounging in the hallway, both looking up upon hearing the door open, Riley grinning and Bee letting out a piercing whistle as they take you in, high fiving.

“You’re gonna knock 'em dead, babe.” Bee winked.

You blushed, but couldn’t help the smile stretching across your lips.

“Alright then, let’s do this.”

Not every life went smoothly, not every meeting was practically gold and rainbows. But this one was. Childhood friends and also soulmates is nearly unheard of, most people couldn’t fathom growing up with the memories of every life before the current. But you had met Minho and Jisung at the ripe age of five, Jisung was the baker's son, your mom was looking for work, and you and Jisung were forced to spend hours upon hours every day together.

At first neither of you really understood the full depth of your shared connection, but when you both met Minho, and shared all the same memories with him as well, your young minds didn’t have it in them to care. 

Growing up, the three of you would learn the full extent of what happened, but you never had the disconnect from the memories, having your past lives almost completely integrated with your current. 

“I wish we could find each other young in every lifetime. It made everything so much easier.” Jisung muttered into your hair. You hummed in contented agreement, fingers massaging Minho’s scalp.

“Unfortunately, that’s not gonna be the case Sungie. Some lives will be easier, some will be harder, there may even be some we never meet at all. But at least in this one, we’ll get to love each other for far longer than we went without.” Despite his words, Minho’s voice was a purr and you knew without a doubt that all three of you, whilst scared of what future lives may entail, were perfectly at peace in that one. 

Riley and Bee had never spent so much time away from the boys. 

From the very moment Changbin found Bee, they were a permanent fixture within the group. Bee helped 3Racha write and produce, they were in the studio almost as much as the group, and if they weren’t there, they weren’t far.

Riley, from the moment of finally accepting Chan at least, was never far either. They would always be around, making sure all of the boys were eating, weren’t overworking themselves, taking in enough fluids. 

To put it lightly, the gap of their absences was almost painfully noticeable in the weeks they seemed to all but vanish. Ever since their lunch with Y/n, it’s been as if the two were ghosts in the skz household. 

Jisung knew they were still around, the lack of moping from either of his fellow producers was proof enough, but he hadn’t seen a glimpse of them for days, maybe even weeks. 

He felt as if his world was fracturing. Minho was working tirelessly on new choreography, Bee wasn’t around to help him with songs, Riley wasn’t around to make sure he was drinking water, all of his members were enjoying their break before the next comeback, and he was exhausted. Jisung didn’t know how to get out of his head, and he wasn’t sure who to ask for help from. 

He knew if he kept the pace he was at, he’d inevitably spiral, and that wouldn’t be any good for anyone. Jisung had decided to hide away in his room and sleep, it was the best answer he could come up with, but just as sleep was threatening to finally overtake him, his door burst open, a downright giddy Changbin standing in the threshold.

“I’m about to take a nap, tell me about it later.” Jisung groaned, turning his back to his friend before his friend could say anything.

Changbin, not having any of it, stomped over and ripped the blankets away from the smaller boy, lifting him out of bed, carrying Jisung to the bathroom, despite his protests, and threw him in the shower.

Before Jisung could complain, yell, or even get a thought in, Changbin turned the water on, drenching him in seconds. 

“Y/n wants to meet, get cleaned up and ready to go in ten.” The older boy said before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and leaving an absolutely dumbfounded Jisung to slowly register the words, excitement growing with his understanding. 

````

Weeks. Minho had been trying to get the choreography for the next comebacks title track down for weeks. Everything he came up with didn’t feel right, and when it did he didn’t think it looked right. 

Hyunjin and Yongbok had offered to help, they’d even stayed with him, learning new dances, so Minho could see how it looked with multiple people, for a fresh perspective. But nothing was right. No matter how much Yongbok would swear he thought it flowed well, no matter how easy Hyunjin picked it up, nothing was right. 

Minho knew, deep down, it wasn’t the dances that were off, it wasn’t his choreography at all. He knew it was nothing to do with anything related to music that was wrong, but the only thing he could translate the misconstrued emotions to was dance. 

He created new dances every day to give his body and mind something to do, something to take away the wandering thoughts and memories. He’d rather tire himself to exhaustion than remember how it felt to have you by his side. 

Minho had come to the conclusion that you were not going to choose them, and he couldn’t blame you for it at all. His hopes were up after he’d seen his only hyung work things out with his soulmate, but not everyone could find it in themselves to be with an idol. Being an idol was hard enough, dating one was a whole other demon of its own. 

Despite knowing he has Jisung, despite being overwhelmingly worried about his lover, Minho simply needed to mourn the lover they never had a chance with. He needed his time to accept the fates cruelty upon their lives this time around, and then he’d help Jisung accept it as well. 

So he kept dancing. For weeks.

Minho had always found solitude in an empty dance studio. The way the mirrors would be completely empty save for his figure, the silence filling a typically boisterous room, there was just something peaceful about a place meant to be filled being empty.

He was stretching, preparing for hours of working out kinks in his newest routine completely unbothered. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. They were on break, all of the boys were off doing who knows what, and they were supposed to be relaxing leading up to their busy season. Yet Minho was in the empty dance studio, all by himself. 

He was lost in thoughts, already hacking away at the parts he wanted to rework, mentally trying to decipher how to fix them, when the door to the studio was nudged open. His eyes shifted to the door in the mirror, finding his only hyung standing in the doorway, a small smile gracing his features. 

“You might want to put your plans for the day on hold.” Chan said without even greeting him. 

“Why’s that?” Minho asked, being unable to stop the quirk of his brow. 

“Because we have lunch plans. Are you sweaty?” 

Minho shook his head, “Just got here, I was stretching.”

“Great, put on street shoes and let’s get out of here, we’ve gotta meet Bin and Ji at the dorms.” Chan smiled, moving to grab Minho’s bag for him. 

“What’s the rush?” Jisung hadn’t mentioned any lunch plans with the other producers, but to be fair he and Jisung had been somewhat distant from one another lately.

“It’s a soulmate lunch. Me and Riles, Bin and Beebee, you and your soulmates.”

Minho nodded his agreement, very used to soulmate lunches, working on lacing his street shoes when he froze in realization. 

Him and his soulmates.

````

To say you were nervous would be a gross understatement. You were downright jittery.

Bee and Riley were positioned on either side of you, both steadfast pillars of comfort bringing an almost overwhelming sense of security. You would be okay, because how could you not be with them by your side?

You’d agreed to meet at Sage's cafe for lunch, it was mutual ground and low foot traffic. Perfect for essentially a first meeting with your two idol soulmates and, from your understanding, Bee and Riley’s idol soulmates as well. 

You were ready to bolt. Ready to full on leg it home and lock your door, never to come out again. Despite the peace of knowing three of your closest friends would be there, meeting them was still an absolutely terrifying concept.

The what ifs a plague playing on repeat. What if they don’t like you? What if you ruin everything for them? What if their fans find out? What if, what if, what if. 

But with every bad what if, there was also a good one. What if you fit in seamlessly? What if they don’t care about their fans finding out? What if they are as scared and excited to finally meet you as you are to meet them? What if, what if, what if.

You knew you could bolt. You knew that Bee and Riley talked big, but if push came to shove and you needed an out, they’d have your back and get you out. You knew you could turn on your heel and walk the opposite way and they’d text their soulmates an update, and that yours would more than likely be devastated.

It was the fact that you could that kept you from doing so. The idea of Jisung and Minho waiting for you, the mental image of them deflating after hearing you’d change your mind, the thought of them being upset due to your actions, pushed you forward, kept you walking, and you knew no matter what you walked in on, you wouldn’t be able to back out now. You wouldn’t be the one to break the loves of your every lifetime. 

Seeing the familiar shop, your heart was in your throat. There would be no turning back, no changing your mind. In choosing to meet them, you chose to give them the ball, everything would be up to them, and the closer you got to the cozy shop, the more you realized you were truly okay with that.

You were never actually nervous about meeting your soulmates, you were giddy about it. 

As you pushed the door open, letting the familiar sound of its little bell notify Sage of your arrival, your eyes found your soulmates in record time, both sat at the table under the trellis covered in flora and vines. Your breath caught at the smiles gracing both of their faces, and you knew.

Even though soulmates can be a painful thing, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to run away from yours again. 

a/n: ahhhhh it’s almost overrrr😭🥺🥺 this was gonna be a lot angstier and then it just, wasn’t. and idk what that’s all about but I like how it turned out lol. I dragged my feet on writing this part for actual weeks and then wrote like, 5k of it in two days, so I hope it was good haha! thank you so so much for reading, please let me know your thoughts!!🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @starlostastronaut @mariteez @tired-of-life-86 @skizmee @elisiexoxo @cutiespaghetti @httpswilloww @sundownimup-1 @lolareadsimagines @rockstrhanji @quokkampi @kayleefriedchicken @vivirantshere @ciellebys

[stellar-skyy]

Sir/Ma'am PLEASE I need the readers reaction to furina's announcement you have made ur fic my roman empire.

RUIN — Furina x reader.

i. SUMMARY: The aftermath of Furina's announcement. (Sequel to Court Gossip.) ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Arguments, crying, brief use of pet names (darling, dear). iii. NOTES: Angst, hurt with no comfort, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.7k words. iv. A/N: I think this the best compliment I've ever recieved omg... I truly did intend to make a happy conclusion to this but the angst. It was too tempting... there might be a part three coming :3

The trip from the Opera Epiclese to her home was a whirlwind. Furina’s mind began to stray as soon as she stepped behind the curtains, with Neuvillette’s hand resting on her back the only sensation grounding her. He was kind enough to accompany her to her residence, opening the door and allowing her to trudge inside.

“Lady Furina?” He asked carefully, watching from the doorway as she kicked off her shoes. Usually she would wait until she was alone to begin shedding her layers of clothing, but Neuvillette had seen her in worse states.

“What is it?” She tugged off her gloves and laid them on the coffee table, pausing to pick up the photo frame in the centre. She stared at her own grinning face, chin hooked over her lover’s shoulder. Her finger traced their face, delicately, like the glass would shatter with any harsher touch.

Neuvillette paused. “Would you like me to stay?”

“Whatever for?” She giggled, like it was a silly proposition. “And shut the door behind you, you’re letting the cool air out.”

He obliged, before continuing. “I know that wasn’t an easy announcement to make, and you must be very stressed by what you’ve been through this past day. If this situation is weighing on you, I am more than happy to stay and talk to you. Especially if I can bring you some sort of comfort.” Silly Neuvillette. She wasn’t the one who needed comforting.

“But, it’s a Tuesday, isn’t it…” Furina murmured, half in a daze. “It’s Tuesday. I cook dinner on Tuesdays.”

She blinked. “You can’t stay, it’s Tuesday. I have to get dinner ready for my darling when they come home.”

“…Very well.” A pinch had formed between Neuvillette’s eyebrows, a distinct sign of an incoming migraine. “Will you be alright?”

“Oh, you worry so, Monsieur Neuvillette!” Furina feigned a laugh, like she was still onstage performing for Fontaine. Something painful sparked in her chest, as she wondered when her own home became a performance. “I will be perfectly fine!”

The sound of a key turning in the lock made her flinch. Neuvillette moved away to let in her partner, who scarcely gave him a glance as they entered.

“Furina,” They called, in lieu of a greeting.

“Hello, dear,” Furina said chirpily. It sounded strained. “I’m about to start making dinner. It’s going to be your favourite tonight! I thought I would surprise you.”

“Ahem. I believe it is time to take my leave,” Neuvillette cleared his throat. “Goodbye, Lady Furina.”

She hummed a goodbye, still turned away from the door.

“Furina,” her lover repeated, stressing the word.

“It’s been a long day, a-and I thought we could eat and then—”

“Furina I was there.”

Oh.

Oh.

She turned slowly, letting both the plates and her fragile grip on normalcy go. They were standing tall, eyes red and rimmed with tears, and Furina resisted the urge to rush over and smother them in kisses until their face split into a grin.

“Ah. I’m sorry dear.” Sorry. It was too simple of a word to try and mend what she had broken.

There was a beat of silence. Their eyes never left her own. “What for?”

“…What do you mean, ‘what for’?”

“What are you sorry for?” They asked, the barest touch of anger in their tone. “Are you sorry you told them I was unimportant? Are you sorry for what they said about me? Or are you sorry that you got caught?”

“I—I don’t understand,” Furina’s face felt hot. “You know I’m sorry for…”

“I don’t think I do,” They snap. They finally break eye contact with Furina to take off their coat and lay it over the back of their chair. “I thought you would be sorry for saying those things, but if you were actually sorry, you wouldn’t have done it.”

“Darling, I know I have hurt you, but it was a mistake.”

“Mistake?” A huff left their lips, incredulity marring that beautiful face of theirs. “I’ve made mistakes. I haven’t stood in front of the opera and told an entire crowd you were worthless.”

“I-I understand that mistake is a rather silly word, but there isn’t anything else I can say! I certainly don’t think you’re worthless, you’re… you’re everything.” Everything was a silly word too, when she was thinking of the only person to strip back her layers and see her for herself.

“Do you actually love me?” The words hit her like a shot to the chest. “Or was that a ‘mistake’ too?”

“Of course, I love you!” The mere thought of not loving them sent her head spinning. “I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. I can’t imagine a world where I don’t!”

“Then why?”

“I had no other choice! They would have said—”

“Let them talk! Who cares about what they think?” They scoffed, hands curling into fists.

“I do! I have to!” Furina’s voice cracked, her composure crumbling with each second they spent looking at her with disbelief in their eyes. “Do you seriously not get it? My reputation is important!”

“More important than me?” They asked.

Furina was silent. The word yes hung between them like a noose around both their necks.

“Yeah… I don’t know why I expected anything different,” they said hollowly.

“Darling…” Furina croaked out, moving closer until they were eye-to-eye.

Her face was wet. When did she start crying?

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” Furina stressed. “I’m sorry for being cowardly. I’m sorry I put their opinion over you. I’m sorry, darling.”

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. She would never be the attentive and loyal partner they deserved, and they would never be passive enough to be content falling into the shadows. The two of them were doomed to stay trapped in this painful dance, stumbling between Furina’s work and their own feelings towards each other, until one trips over their own feet and sends them falling to the ground. It was a performance of tragedy; one that would leave both in ruin.

The hopelessness of their relationship was not lost on Furina, but it was drowned out by a deep and unshakable longing—to be touched, to be held, to be loved, by them and only then.

Before them, Furina had never met anyone she’d willingly let herself be ruined by.

“Please,” Furina whispered, clasping their hands in hers and pressing them against her lips. Between each kiss to their knuckles was another whispered promise. “I love you, darling. I swear I love you.”

“I… I love you too,” they said shakily, squeezing her hands. “I—I don’t think I can see you right now. I just—I just can’t.”

Slowly, they let go of her and turned to pick up their coat. “I’m going out. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Darling, please…” Furina clutched around the edge of their clothes, grasping at any part of them to frantically try to keep them from slipping away. “I’m sorry!”

“I know you’re sorry,” they sighed, carefully untangling from her desperate hands.

“Tell me what to do!” She begged. “Please, just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it. I need to know how to fix this. Tell me what will make you stay.”

Something hollow crosses their face. “I want to stay. But I don’t think that would be good for either of us. You said it yourself, you have to care about what they think.

“You can stay. We can simply keep it under wraps.” Furina traced her thumb along their face, committing each mark and curve to her memory.

They laughed wryly, without a trace of humour. “We tried that, didn’t we? How well did that turn out?”

Furina brought her hands back to her lips, brushing a kiss over every patch of skin she could reach. Her words were quiet, barely a murmur into their hands and barely reaching their ears. “We’ll do better this time, won’t we? Just… please don’t leave me, darling.”

They gently shifted their joined hands down so they were looking straight at Furina again. They leaned forward, close enough that she could feel their breath on her cheek, and for a moment it seemed they were going to kiss her. Their lips paused, about a centimetre away from hers, and began to speak softly. “I’ll put it this way. If you can look at me in the eyes and tell me that you can be in a public relationship with me, without it negatively affecting your work, your reputation, or either of our wellbeing, then I will stay.”

And oh, if that didn’t feel like they had dug a knife into the wound and twisted. Furina bit back the protests threatening to spill over, promising them that of course, they would be her top priority, and it wouldn’t be a problem at all!

Because they weren’t wrong, were they? Furina de Fontaine, Hydro Archon, surveyor of justice. Someone like her could never survive in an ordinary relationship, not without a nation’s worth of eyes keeping an eye on her every move. That was no way to love someone. Perhaps it was for the best, to turn her back now and save them the heartbreak that was to follow; to end it when they were still so in love and spare their inevitable drifting apart.

Furina’s grip on their hands loosened with each passing thought, while they stared back at her with hope in their eyes. It was a look so raw, so painfully tender that she almost fell apart. Such hope would only destroy them if she entertained them with wishful thinking.  

She couldn’t allow herself to destroy them. They were simply too precious to treat so carelessly.

And so—

She let them go.

Their expression fell, and her hand slipped away from theirs. Without another word, they shrugged their jacket over their shoulders and walked away. Unlike Furina, they didn’t stop to look at the photos, nor the shelves covered in an eclectic selection of books taken from two individual’s tastes. They didn’t stop until they were already halfway through the door, hand clasped firmly around the handle.

“Goodbye, Furina.”

Furina waited for the door to close and the footsteps outside to fade, before she collapsed to her knees and let herself fall apart.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[mollywog]

Roommate

Part 1

“He’s like my age, you know that right?” She says as she disinterestedly picks at her nails.

“Yeah, so what… four years? That would have mattered back in high school, but we’re both adults and now it’s just kinda hot.”

Katniss looks up to watch her sister apply lipstick through the mirror from her perch on the bed. Damn it. Why doesn’t she wear lipstick? It’s a futile thought, even if she did, she could never look like that.

Her sister catches her stare, raising a brow at her reflection, “look alright?”

“Red’s a little cliche, don’t you think?”

Prim smirks, “So’s green. Just admit it; you’re jealous. Say the word and I’ll call the whole thing off.”

Katniss had gone home the week prior, having convinced herself that Prim would drop the idea.

She hadn’t.

Finnick had organized Trivia on Tuesday and Katniss on as Prim approached Peeta at the bar alone. How she’d put her hand on his shoulder to lean in and speak close to his ear, and how he smiled and nodded at whatever she was saying. Her sister later confirmed they had made plans to grab drinks on Friday.

This morning Katniss had woken with a migraine and called off work. The headache is gone, but she’s still feeling nauseous as she watches her sister primp for her date.

Katniss ignores the taunt, “so what are you wearing?”

Prim stands from the vanity and pulls out a black dress. Katniss wishes there was something to object to, but it’s a classic so she gives her sister a pinched smile. The smile quickly falls to an open mouth gape as Prim shrugs off her robe, revealing a muted orange bra and matching underwear.

“Like it?” Prim says, batting her lashes in fein innocence, “It's new.” and Katniss knows the color is not accidental.

“Prim! You aren’t planning on sleeping with him, are you?!” Her voice is shrill and she can feel the headache returning anew.

“Planning? No. But you always taught me to be prepared for anything.”

“I meant like a flat tire, or a global apocalypse. Not fucking my roommate!”

“Which part bothers you more? Me having sex? Or me having sex with Peeta?”

Katniss snaps her mouth shut. “Nevermind,” she grumbled, “just make sure you have a condom.”

Prim pinches her lips into a tight line, before turning away. She shimmies into the dress and slips on heels with just the right height to accentuate her calves. She pivots in the full length mirror to get a side view, checking her ass.

She’s gorgeous. Perfect really.

Katniss adjusts the hem of the oversized shirt that lays limply over her flat chest and ass and wonders what Mendel would make of the pair of them: as different as two sisters can be.

She’s never been jealous of Prim; always wanted the best for her, even when it meant sacrificing herself - it hadn’t felt like much of a sacrifice at all when it came down to it. But this is different, because the thought of giving up Peeta, even to someone who might actually deserve him, finally feels like a real sacrifice. She’s jealous. She can admit now, if only to herself. The realization horrifies her and is quickly eclipsed by guilt of her selfishness.

“I’m leaving,” Prim eyes her expectantly, “Speak now or forever hold your peace,”

What before she would have said in defiance, is now said in shame and defeat, “Have fun.”

Part 3 | Ao3

[beautysamour]

hihi!!! hope your doing well :) i was wondering if you could pls write a kenji ff of like an enemies to lovers kinda thing where the reader is always angry at kenji but slowly starts to loosen up ig. i hope that makes sense!! you can change it up ofcc ^^

Shameless

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kenji kishimoto x reader

✧ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: kenji kishimoto, mentioned juliette ferrars

✧ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: hatred and love are truly two sides of the same coin.

✧ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader slowly falling for kenji

✧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.2k

✧ 𝐚/𝐧: set during the second/third-ish book. hope you’re doing well too ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

Kenji has this gift, ability, to turn invisible. It’s quite beneficial during missions and for most things really, like sneaking out late at night when everyone is supposed to be asleep or suddenly disappearing when someone you didn’t like was looking for you, or even better, scaring someone.

“You fucking asshole!”

You stared at Kenji in disgust as he feigned ignorance, a laugh slipping out with every other word, “What? All I did was say hi.”

You craned your head to the side, every inch on your body screaming at you to punch him, “Yeah, you pop out of nowhere right as I was about to shoot a fucking arrow through a place where there’s people I could possibly hit!”

He tsked, “I don’t see how that’s my problem, really, you shouldn’t even be shooting arrows in a crowded place anyways.”

He didn’t bother hiding the growing smirk on his face as you closed your eyes while taking a deep breath in.

You turned around opening your eyes and walked towards your target without saying another word, “It’s kind of rude to leave in the middle of a conversation, babe.”

You threw a middle finger back at him, you could feel a migraine forming as you hear him yell out an irritating “Love you too!”

✩ ✩

You set down your bow finally having used all your arrows, and a complete practice session. You allowed yourself to feel slightly smug as you walked towards the target, all arrows but one scattered all over the tens. The other one on the bullseye.

“Wow, you actually hit the target.”

And just like that your migraine is back.

“I’ve been hitting the target ever since I picked up a bow and arrow.”

“Ok nimrod, I see you.”

You slowly turn your head towards Kenji, “What did you just call me?” You reached for an arrow causing Kenji to lift his hands in the air as if he was surrendering.

“I called you a skillful hunter.”

“That’s not what a nimrod is—“

“Yes it is—“

“No, it is not—“

“If dictionaries were around I’d tell you to look through one, but for now you’re gonna have to trust me on this—“

“You’re a fucking nimrod!”

“Thanks—?”

“It’s not a compliment!”

Kenji looked at you amused. You were so easy to rile up. “Alright, alright. You can ask Juliette to ask Warner if you really think I’m lying.”

You roll your eyes turning to the target and start pulling of your arrows, “Yeah I just might.”

“Do you need help with that?” Kenji took a step forward not really waiting for an answer. Using your free hand you pushed against Kenji’ chest, not realizing the implication you might’ve sent him.

“It’s fine, you might break one.”

Kenji stayed still for a moment— and only just that, not a second too short or long. “‘m not that clumsy.”

“Don’t want to take any chances.” As you pulled off the last arrow you turned yourself to Kenji, “Why are you here?”

His back straightened as if he was waiting for you to ask that, “Wanna have dinner?”

You cringed at him, “It’s too late for that.”

He raised a brow, “That’s your excuse?”

You rolled your eyes again, “Sure.” Without saying another word you turn on your heel and walk away from him, leaving him alone in the target zone— Kenji knew better than to follow.

Still, he didn’t bother saying any flirty last minute quips as you gathered your stuff and left the training area. He had more pressing thoughts going through his head.

He knew he annoyed you, hell, you annoyed him too. Your keen air that never applied with him, your short and straight to the point responses, the way your eyes bored into his, the way you never needed his help because you were so skilled in everything you do. The way that you’ve never looked at him the way you do your target, determined, focused, that pure hunger for hitting the target— all your attention on it.

The way you don’t hide your dislike for him, never wanting to be near him, never wanting to touch him, never wanting him.

It drew him insane, the way you were so distant with him despite being right there.

So when you touched his chest just a few minutes ago, showing him a new side of you— one that isn’t revolted at the thought of touching him— it was enough to make him want more. To want you more.

But— he knew these feelings were one sided, and he respected that despite how much he teases you. He only hopes you could grow to see him as a friend, that much would suffice.

✩ ✩

It was practically common knowledge that you didn’t exactly like Kenji Kishimoto. You had a scowl on your face every time he spoke with you, you’d reject all invitations—professional and casual—from him, and you never batted an eye whenever he got hurt.

So your current actions had everyone’s attention on you and him.

“How did you even get hurt,” you lightly lift his arm so you could wrap his bicep with the gauze, “You can literally turn invisible.”

“Yeah, invisible. Not into a ghost.”

You scoffed, extremely annoyed more so than usual. “Still, why did you even make yourself visible?”

He cocked his head to you, eyes boring into yours, “Because I didn’t realize we were going to get fucking attacked.”

He turned his head away from you, for the first time being the one to end the conversation short. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach at the realization for some reason, you pushed it off as just being worried about a friend.

Friend?

You finished wrapping the gauze around his arm, shaking your inner thoughts away you grabbed another roll of gauze, “Can you take off your shirt? I have to gauze it.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to tell me that, I know. Why else would you ask me to take it off.” You furrowed your brows, the feeling getting worse.

You forced yourself to look away as he took off his shirt, only looking back when he said you could.

It was silent as you wrapped the gauze around his torso and chest, uncomfortably silent. You’ve had to re-wrap it multiple times already, this being the third. It was weird. Kenji was acting weird.

“Hey, you ok?”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, dropping the gauze. You sighed not sure what was wrong with you today, “Sorry, yeah I’m fine.”

Kenji watched the wrapped gauze loosen itself around his body, unwrapping it fully with his own hands, “You sure?”

He handed you the gauze messily thrown together, looking at you with that stupid expression of worry as if he wasn’t acting like he was annoyed to be receiving help from you just a few minutes ago.

You carefully grabbed the gauze from his hands not wanting to hurt his already wrapped fingers, “I should be asking you that.”

“Perfectly fine sweetheart, thanks for asking,” he replied sarcastically, his back facing you slowly making you irritated.

You swallowed the insults that were sitting just on the tip of your tongue, “It’s my job—“

“Yeah, mhm, no need to remind me.”

“Ok, what the hell is wrong with you today?” You set down the gauze and focused your attention to his face—his eyes—“What’s with the attitude?”

His gaze settled somewhere behind you, probably at Juliette, before meeting your gaze with an irritating smile, “‘m hurt. Not really in the mood to kiss your ass today.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Kiss my ass?”

His eyes dropped to one of your hands, “Are you gonna finish wrapping the gauze around me now, or am I going to have to go to sleep with my wound out in the open?”

Ignoring him you say, “So being a decent human being is kissing someone’s ass now?”

He raised a brow, “Uh, no?”

You furrowed your brows at him, the feeling of annoyance not coming to you—but instead a dreading feeling of sadness?

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like this,” you motion to Kenji, “Like it’s a burden to be in here.”

Kenji’ previous irritation turned into amusement. You were right, it was a burden to be in here, to be with you.

It was childish and Kenji knew he was being childish, he told himself he was fine just being your friend— and he is! Was. That only lasted for a few more days. He didn’t know how else to get your attention and now that he finally has it, he can’t help but be petty. The only way he could get your attention was if he was hurt, and it made him feel pathetic.

“Well you’d be a terrible nurse.”

You rolled your eyes. You weren’t sure what response you were expecting from him. No, it’s not a burden, I like being with you! Kenji is incapable of showing you in particular genuine emotion, it was stupid to want to hear something else.

“Thanks, such a nice thing to say.”

“You’re welcome.”

The next few minutes you took wrapping the gauze around his torso was filled with silence, just as the rest of the night.

✩ ✩

“Come on, we have to get you back.”

You tug the arm leaning against the back of your neck to tighten Kenji’ grip as you mustered the strength to support his body weight once you stood up.

“Wow, you didn’t say something rude to me.”

“Well you’re hurt, scolding you isn’t my priority right now,” you clear your throat in an attempt to cover up the way your voice broke mid-sentence.

Kenji began to laugh but got cut off with a groan as his newest wound rubbed against the cloth of your clothing.

You winced and adjusted the way he was leaning against you, “Sorry.”

Kenji eyed you suspiciously, “Woah, is this really the Y/N I know?”

“Kenji, shut up—“

“An “I’m sorry.” Wow that’s new,” he continues, “What did you do with the real Y/N.”

You ignore his teasing, focusing on getting the two of you out of this place. After a few minutes, Kenji quiets down. He’s gotten heavier, depending more on your body to support his as his head starts to tilt side to side.

You tighten your grip around his waist, “Kenji, we’re almost there.”

He slurs out an “okay” as his head finally finds a place to rest on—your head.

The worried feeling you’ve had since you found him starts to become more intense at his act of weakness, and it only continues to get worse until you see the base.

“Finally,” you whisper. Kenji presses his head impossibly closer to yours, you shudder when you realize how close you two are to each other.

His entire body is practically on you. His head leaned against yours, his arm that has fallen to your lower back, his upper body rested right against yours, and his legs so close they bump against yours as you walk. Your breath hitched when you felt his hand wrap around the arm that was wrapped around his waist.

“How do you feel?”

Kenji doesn’t respond for a few seconds. “Could be better.”

You drop the conversation after his answer, you’re assuming that he probably doesn’t want to talk while he’s bleeding from his side. It’s been about two weeks since your little moment with him and the gauze, this is the first time you’ve actually spoken to him since— and he’s definitely been on your mind.

“Did you get hurt?” You ignore the tingling sensation you get when he start to rub circles against your arm.

“I’m alright.”

“That’s good, would’ve made the entire worthless if you did.”

You slightly falter in your steps, “You going visible nearly caused us to lose you. That would’ve been a huge loss for us, Kishimoto.”

He laughed and you could feel the vibrations from where his head and yours connected, “Not as huge of a loss as losing you.”

You furrow your brows at his words, “No, your invisibility is crucial for us. I still don’t understand why you went visible again.”

“Went visible for you.”

The words went straight over your head, “Ok, and the first time?”

“Went visible for you then too.”

“That’s a dumb excuse, at least try to make it logical—“

“I went visible for you. Both times,” he says, voice slightly raised, then cringes at the new wave of pain that hits him, and only then do you process his words.

You want to stop walking to be able to face him and take to him face to face, but your top priority is to get him to Sara and Sonya so this awkward position will have to do, “Why would you go visible for me?”

“To make sure the fuckers that were going after you went after me instead.”

You knew Kenji had some kind of favoritism towards you with how often he’d seek you out but you assumed that was only because you didn’t drool over him when you first saw him.

“I would’ve been able—“

“To protect yourself, yes I know. You’re a nimrod, but you aren’t invincible. You were out in the open with no good hiding places, whereas with me, I can turn invisible.”

“And then you ended up getting hurt!”

“—I was able to escape,” he winces when his wound rubs against you again, “I was able to get away,” he repeats, “because of my invisibility.”

That didn’t matter to you though, what mattered— still— was that he got hurt and it only made it worse now that you know he technically got hurt because of you, “And because of me, you had a huge wound on your chest, and because of me again, you have a new wound down the side of your body.”

He grunted, you force yourself to think it was solely because of the pain since the thought of Kenji being upset was strangely upsetting for you.

“Well you’re welcome anyways—“

“—I’m not afraid of death, Kenji,” you interrupt, “I’d much rather die than see you get hurt for me.”

Kenji stayed quiet for a few seconds, and as you took more steps the seconds turned into minutes before he spoke again, “I feel the same with you.”

Despite being upset about him putting himself in the line of fire for you, you couldn’t help the smile that started to form at his words. You slightly adjust your grip around his waist, “Since we feel the same about the topic, let’s make a promise?”

“What kind?” 

“Stop trying to protect me—“

“Hey—“

“—Just listen, would you?” His silence gave you the chance to continue, “And I’ll be more careful so you won’t be forced to protect me.”

You felt him press his head harder against yours again, “….Ok.”

“Deal?” You continue, not considering “ok” as a reasonable answer.

“Yeah, yeah…ok, deal.”

✩ ✩

“Let’s go get dinner.”

Kenji nearly choked on his water. You, asking him, to get dinner? What the hell was up with you?

“Uh, are you ok?”

“Yes?” You’re holding your bow and arrow since you just finished shooting at some targets, and now you were hungry. Kenji always asked to get dinner so you didn’t have to think hard about asking him to come with.

“Oh, ok. Sure—“

“Great, come on,” you grab Kenji’ hand and don’t take a second longer to start dragging him behind you, “We might miss dinner.”

Kenji’ eyes widen behind you, you’ve been a lot more touchy with him these past few month since you found him bleeding out from his upper body. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not complaining. It’s just a nice change.

Before he knows it, you let go of his hand as the both of you enter the eating area. You’re quick to get his food as he chases after you trying to keep up with your quick pace.

“You always this active at night?” He asks as you pick up two pairs of utensils for the both of you.

“Depends on what’s happening, but more so yes then no.”

“Alright,” he whispers as you speed walk away from him and to a table.

“So, how was your day?” You ask when he sits down in front of you, your fork properly mixing your food together.

“It was alright. How was yours, nimrod?”

You laugh a little at the nickname, you’ve indeed asked Warner straight up if the word had any other definition than idiot, and he confirmed it to have meant how Kenji defined it too.

“Same as any other day,” you look up from your food to glance at Kenji, “How are your wounds?”

Kenji let out a disgruntled sigh, “It’s been six months, I’m completely fine, stop worrying about them.”

You’re about to argue him on that but decide that it’s not worth fighting over, “I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“That’s good,” you reply slightly dejectedly, feeling as if you annoyed him. You avoid looking up at him and focused on the food in front of you.

Kenji, who was also in front of you, felt bad. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you still had those puppy dog eyes, and Kenji wanted to scream at himself.

You just cared, you were only concerned about his well being, if anything he should be happy. All he’s ever wanted was your care and now he has it and he’s fumbling hard. So he reluctantly taps the space in front of your food causing you to look at him.

Fucking puppy dog eyes, “Thank you for asking though.”

For some reason, for literally no reason at all, Kenji doesn’t go along with the saying “Thank you.” It feels awkward, and it shows with how stiff his movements have suddenly become.

“Oh—you’re welcome.” You respond with a smile as if he thanked you for finding the cure for all sicknesses.

Kenji responded with only a nod before picking up his utensils and beginning to eat. Silence settled between the two of you, you kept your head down only looking up to see how much Kenji has eaten only to meet Kenji’ eyes directly which caused you to drop your head quicker than the speed of your arrows.

You aren’t sure when it started, you think it was when you found him knocking on deaths door but it might’ve been from even before that.

Kenji doesn’t annoy you anymore. Suddenly the days went from dreading the moment you’d meet him throughout the day to waiting hopelessly for when he’d come around. You think, no, you’re sure it’s because of the promise you’ve made, it makes you feel closer to him as if he was an actual friend.

But that’s not all, suddenly, you went from only seeing him for his invisibility ability to seeing him as come kind of comfort place.

It was killing you to know if he still thought of you that way too.

Kenji on the other hand kept his eyes on you as he ate, not because he wanted too, but to make sure you didn’t choke on your food with how fast you were eating it.

“Hey, slow down a bit, you’re gonna end up choking and dying.”

And you do just that, you slow down.

Kenji tilts his head, admittedly a little worried, “So why’d you—“

“—Why did you—,” the both of you ask at the same time.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, “Continue.”

“No,” he replied quickly, “You can go first.”

You stare at him expectantly. Then you continue, “Ok,” you take a short inhale before locking eyes with him again, eyes sharp and attentive, “Why did you always follow me around?”

He widens his eyes for a second, suddenly unable to speak. Why did he always follow you around?

“You were new.”

You keep eye contact with him, hoping he’d say more but he didn’t. Unsatisfied with his answer give him a short nod and only say, “Right.”

Kenji can’t help but feel that he did something wrong by your reaction, but it was true! Well, half true.

He clears his throat, the air suddenly suffocating, “So…why’d you invite me to dinner again?”

Nervousness started to creep into your veins, you weren’t sure if you wanted to risk everything and confess or just call it night.

Little did you know that Kenji wasn’t asking for new information, but was looking for confirmation.

You mumbled something, something he didn’t quite hear.

“What?”

You mumble again, somehow even more quieter than the last time.

“What?”

“For fuck’s sake Kenji,” you grumble out, “Why did you use to invite me out for dinner?”

“What—?”

You interrupt him, “I like being around you,” you say half truthfully, “And—“ you’re about to say the entire truth but decide against it feeling self conscious all of a sudden.

“And I was hungry.”

You start to fiddle with your fingers when he doesn’t respond immediately.

“And that’s all?” He finally asks.

And you reply, “Yes,” with a heavy heart.

“Well that’s…a little stupid.”

You whip your head up, confused at his words, “What?”

He snorts, “Now you’re saying what,” he mumbles. He takes a bite out of his food before speaking again, “It’s just kind of a dumb excuse.”

You narrow your eyes at him, even more confused now, “It’s not an excuse.”

He gives you a nod fakely agreeing with you, “Yeah, I mean, the reason why I always asked you out for dinner was definitely because I was just hungry,” he nods again, “No other reason.”

You look at him suspiciously, eyes still narrowed, “Okay…”

Kenji waits for a second seeing if you’d do anything else and he internally shakes his head when you don’t, “Ah, fuck it,” he groans out, “Hey, I like you.”

This gets you to drop the narrowed expression and cause you to widen your eyes, “You—“

“Yes, like, I like you.”

You look at him dumbfounded, eyes widened and mouth dropped open. You weren’t really expecting a confession tonight so the whole thing threw you off.

Kenji, the saint that he is, kept the conversation going. With a cheeky smile he leaned forward, elbows on the table and his hands supporting his head, “Wanna try answering my question again?”

You blinked, once, twice. You dropped your gaze from him trying to recollect your thoughts and the ability to form coherent thoughts.

“Um,” you begin, “I…”

“Mhm,” he hummed egging you on.

“I like you,” you say almost as an exhale. You close your eyes for a few moments feeling like you just ran a marathon.

A smile formed on Kenji’ face, one unbeknownst to you, but it was stifled by him as quickly as it came. “That doesn’t really answer my question though,” he playfully tsks.

You slowly open your eyes, your entire body feeling warm. You raise a brow, giving him the silent question of what do you mean?

He shakes his head as if he’s disappointed as he leans closer to you, “Still doesn’t tell me why you asked me out for dinner.”

You slowly tilt your head, “It’s because I like you.”

“Yeah, well a lot of people like me sweetie,” he tilts his head to the side mirroring your body language, “However not everyone asks me to get dinner with them.”

You’re sure he’s teasing you judging from his tone and how he mirrors your own body, but you play along nonetheless, “Because not everyone has romantic feelings for you, Kenji, not like me.”

“Oh,” he teases, “So you have romantic feelings for me now? What happened to the nimrod I knew just a few months ago who never wanted to spend time with me?”

You roll your eyes, your composure quickly coming back to you, “Doesn’t matter.”

“No?”

“Kenji,” you say as you close your eyes again, getting affectionately annoyed, “Why are you teasing me?”

“What would you rather me do, sweetie?”

You groan at the term of endearment, your brain getting mushy at the thought of being intimate with him, “There’s a lot I’d rather you do.”

“Like?” He asks, egging you on again.

You look down at his lips then back to his eyes, then back to his lips again, and you decide to stay like this.

“Kissing sounds like a good idea, yeah?”

Kenji raises a brow, “You want to make out in front of the kitchen staff?” He asks feigning innocence.

You shake your head at his sarcasm at push yourself away from the table and him. “Uh—where are you going?” Kenji asks as you get up from the table.

“My room,” you say nonchalantly as you throw away your half eaten food.

“Wait,” you stop mid stride as he yelled out to you, “You don’t want to make out anymore?”

You chuckle at how those words sound coming from his mouth, “Just go to my room?”

“It’s a little difficult to not raise suspicion if I go there, no?”

You shrug, “Just turn invisible. That’s one of the reasons why it’s such a beneficial ability to have.”

Kenji opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He drops his head, nodding at your wonderful idea. “Yeah,” he chuckles, “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

Old habits die hard, so you nod and turn around being the one to end the conversation—and you try not to run down the hall.

[talkfastromance4]

Alright, since I’m a big ball of stressy-drepressy lately, I was wondering how Jake would help Sugar through a day that she’s just not feeling it. ♥️ luv u fren.

I hope you like this bb! it's a little bit more descriptive, I hope you don't mind.

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 1.9k

warnings: migraines, bad moods

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

You’re not sure how it started, but whenever you were feeling down in the blues you always scampered off to Jake’s room. It was so big and open and he always had the fireplace on so it felt cozy all the time. His pillows were the fluffiest you’ve ever felt and the whole place smelled of him, rich and musky. Even with the fireplace on, his comforter was cool on your skin. 

The day started off bad as soon as you woke up because you slept through your alarm. It was also Rhea’s day off and Jake’s early day to fly so you were in the house alone. It’s been a bit stormy lately and the wind kept you up from outside your window. It must have hit a power line or something because the coffeemaker was off when you got into the kitchen thus the coffee was cold and tepid. 

You planned on taking a shower before work but now you were running late and your hair looked so gross. Even the luxurious dry shampoo couldn’t save the mess of your head so you opted for a messy bun. Then you got frustrated because your messy bun wasn’t the right type of messy. 

“Miss y/n?” Reynolds called to you from downstairs and you were rushing again to get dressed. 

When you were finally ready you asked Reynolds if you could stop at the coffee shop near Jake’s house before going to the shop and he said yes. That didn’t end up happening because the drive-thru line was obnoxiously long and Serena texted you that there were a ton of people in the store already wanting to do orders. 

Your stomach grumbled and you wanted one of Rhea’s muffins. 

The wind was still horrendous and you could smell rain, the clouds were dark and gray which matched your mood perfectly as you walked into the shop. Recognizing you, customers started bombarding you with questions and shoving phones in your face of what type of arrangement they needed. 

The back of your neck began to throb signifying the onslaught of a migraine. 

It’s going to be a long day.

***

By the time you got home your feet ached, your arms ached, you had bandaids on six of your fingers from thorns and yanking off leaves and your head was killing you. You worked through lunch and you know you didn’t drink as much water as you should have. The storm kept rumbling in the distance which only made you more antsy because the lights flickered every now and then in the shop.

Dom assured you he’d check that the back-up generators were up and running before he closed up. He sent you home early because he could tell how miserable you are. 

The whole drive home you were battling with yourself whether or not to text Jake asking if he could pick up food from your favorite restaurant. You don’t want to seem needy but he told you to ask him for whatever you’d like. Would he be bothered? What if he had a bad day and wanted to come home and relax and your request pissed him off? 

Not wanting to make him mad you stare at the contents of the fridge for a good twenty minutes before you nibble on some pasta salad. Your head was still killing you and you just felt so sad and tired and exhausted and your body ached–

It was like your feet were on auto pilot as you trudged up the stairs, down the hall past your room and walked right into Jake’s. The remote for the fireplace was on his nightstand so you pushed the button to turn it on, the flames engulfed the space quickly as wind roared on outside. You bit your lip as you contemplated going to his bed or the big couch on the other side of the fireplace.

You decided on the couch, it had a huge knit blanket that felt like a hug and you could watch a movie on the tv up above the fireplace. You settle in and pick some romcom from the early 2000s you haven’t seen in a while and wait for Jake to come home. 

Twenty minutes into the movie you hear the front door open and close and then torrential rain is hitting the windows. You keep your eyes on the characters in the movie but peek at the doorway waiting for Jake. Your head is pounding as loud as your heart as you wait for him, neck aching, body aching…aching for him. 

Jake finally appears in the doorway, his hair wet from rain and his flight suit is tied around his waist so the white shirt he has on is spotted with rain drops. In his hands is a carrying tray with two strawberry shakes and the other holding a big bag that you recognize from your favorite restaurant. 

“Reynolds told me you weren’t having a good day. I’m sorry I’m late, the roads are terrible and the line at the drive-thru was long. I got all of your favorites, and the dessert they had is the chocolate pudding you love so I got extras,” he explains making his way over to you. 

He sets the goodies on the coffee table in front of you then kneels on the floor, resting his elbows on your blanket covered body. 

“I thought I’d find you here. Migraine?” he asks and you nod. “Did you take anything?” A shake of the head. “I’ll get your medicine and peppermint oil. Start eating and I’ll change, okay?” 

He stretches forward to kiss your cheek, he smells like rain and then he’s gone. As he leaves, he yanks his shirt up and over his head; your tummy flutters at seeing his muscular back. You force yourself to sit up and grab your shake, the hearty sip and sweet strawberry flavor makes your taste buds sing. The coolness of the shake also feels good in your throat. 

Jake returns in gray sweats and a different t-shirt, his NAVY one that you secretly have a favor towards. The color looks wonderful against his skin. A small tub of lotion and bottle of peppermint oil is in hand, he keeps it in his bathroom because you normally retreat in his room during bad headaches. He likes to be prepared.

He touches your shoulder and you shift forward so he can sit behind you on the couch, it’s big enough that you can fit comfortably. He places your medicine on the table.

“Your head might feel better if you take out the knot of your bun, Sugar,” he says softly knowing loud noises hurt your head. 

“It’s all gross,” you shake your head which makes the throbbing pain worse.

“Want me to wash it?” his fingers probe at the base of your neck and up your head, his thumbs rubbing with just the right pressure to alleviate the pain. 

“How would you do that?”

“Well, I have a pretty nice tub in my bathroom…or yours,” he muses, continuing to rub your head. You continue to suck up your shake. 

“Maybe later,” you sigh.

“Okay,” he kisses the back of your neck delicately. His lips are cold and you sigh.

“Stay there for a minute .... lips are nice and cold.”

You feel his smile on your neck as he kisses you again and keeps his lips there, skimming them over your neck gently. The tip of his nose is also cold and you relax a bit from the temperature change. He pulls your shirt down a little so he can kiss even lower past your neck and onto your back. 

“Ready for the peppermint?”

“Mhm,” you hum and his lips are gone. 

He unscrews the lid of the lotion, you faintly pay attention because now that you’ve got some shake in you, you’re paying more attention to the movie onscreen. You can tell he adds the peppermint because you smell it, that even helps your head a little. 

Jake’s hands are cold as he presses the peppermint coated lotion onto your neck and he begins to massage you again. His fingers knead gently at your cranium, up into your hair and down to your shoulders, his thumbs paying extra special attention at the center of your head. A soft moan escapes and you tilt your head forward so he can really rub at the taut muscle. 

“I’m sorry you had a bad day,” he murmurs. 

“Everything just went wrong. This is helping…”

“Good. What movie are we watching?”

“50 First Dates.”

“That’s a good one.”

“It’s almost over…what do you want to watch next?”

“How about The Princess Bride?”

“As you wish,” you tease, quoting the movie. The throbbing in your head lessens but you grab your medicine and take it with your shake. “How was your day?”

“Busy, we kept waiting to fly but the storm prevented it. Had to stay grounded and I kept thinking of you.”

He massaged your head until the movie ended and joined you in eating the dinner he brought home. You selected his movie of choice, which was also one of your favorites, and cuddled up on the couch, he slipped under the big blanket with you and you rested your head on his chest. Jake’s fingers played with your hair and unworked the hair tie.

“No, my hair is gross–”

“Shush, I don’t care. I bet that feels better, huh?” he asks. The tightness is released and you burrow further into his chest. You start to skim your fingers over his forearm, creating designs. He sighs.

“What?” you ask stopping your tickling.

“That feels nice,” he sighs, his cheek pressing to the top of your head. “Don’t stop.”

You smile into his shirt and start tickling his arm again, jumping slightly when thunder cracks.

“I know you hate it,” he says, running his fingers down your back and waist. “But I think I like when it rains.”

“Why?”

“Because that means you’ll be here with me.”

He squeezes your waist and you tilt your head so you’re looking up at him. He’s already looking at you. Feeling brave and bold, you place your hand at the back of his neck pulling him forward so you can touch your lips with his. It’s slow building, this kiss, his lips soft and supple giving you full control. You part your lips slightly but when you don’t feel his tongue against yours, you slip yours against his. 

Jake groans when your tongues connect and he shifts you up higher so you’re more level with him. Your leg is fully over his waist, both your arms around his neck. His kiss is giving you shivers all over, his hands hot on your waist and back as your shirt rides up a little from your movements. 

“You taste like strawberries,” you huff, breaking away to take a breath.

“So do you,” he smiles rubbing your nose with his. He moves his hand to cup your cheek, tracing his thumb over your lip. “How’s your head?”

“Better. Thank you,” you kiss his nose. 

“You’re welcome, Sugar. Let’s finish the movie, hm?”

You nod and fall back into your original position, lips buzzing from his kiss, heart hammering from how it made you feel. While you watch Wesley and Buttercup fall in love, you secretly hope it rains every day so you can be in Jake’s room all week.

[bellysoupset]

The last 2 fics were so good!!

Considering Wendy will be in town for a few days could you write a fic where Max is the sickie and Wendy as caretaker? Maybe she wants to thank him for helping her, and he’s just not feeling well for some reason reason.

Oh we're gonna OD on Wendy this week. I love love LOVE writing her with Vince and I've been going insane trying to think of a way of having her interact with Max, so now you guys are gonna have to put up with me milking this scenarios sooo much.

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

Excedrin had a really nice side effect of wiping Wendy's memory better than Tequila did. Sure, just like Tequila it left her feeling queasy and a little woozy, but it was better than the shrapnel of pain digging through her eyes or even the memory of the pain.

Despite the memory loss, Wendy knew something had happened. She had been conscious enough during most of Max's rescue, so his participation wasn't lost in the void, just Vince's arrival. And Vin was acting weird.

He was always a touchy person, but something was just... Off.

When Wendy came to be, around 5 AM next day, she realized she had been lying halfway across his lap for all of the night. Vince was still as a statue, but as she let out a groan, all muscles sore and her head swimming, he had woken up immediately. Hands cupping her cheeks and asking over and over if she was alright and, again, it was normal for him to be touchy and caring and loving... But this was just a tad much.

Next day he had to go to work still - how he was functioning after sleeping sitting up most of the night and tending to her, Wendy didn't know - so Wen had spent most of her morning lazing in bed, until lunch time when Vince came back with flowers and food for them both.

"I can't stay, I need to go back to finish my classes, but I didn't want you to have lunch alone," he had explained, while planting the huge bouquet of tulips in her arms and frankly, how was she supposed not to swoon?

He didn't let her get up to grab even a fork and had been doting on her like Wendy was a baby bird with a broken wing. Fluttery kisses all over her face, stamped to her brow, her nose, her cheeks, her lips.

"I'm alright, you know?" Wendy grabbed his face, allowing her fingers to sink in his cheeks to keep him put, "I know migraines are scary, but between me and Luke you're a pro at them. So what's up, hon?"

"Nothing," Vince wrinkled his nose, averting his eyes. He was a shitty liar, she loved that about him, "just worried about you, that's all."

She let it slide, not in the mood to search for any sort of conflict. If Vince wanted to treat her like his little porcelain doll, then so be it.

It wasn't until later that night, when they were cuddled up in bed and Wendy was pressed so close to Vince she could feel every little noise and movement from his body, that he asked, "so you were put on administrative leave? What happened?"

"Went over the limit of hours," Wendy pressed her nose to his collarbone, a kiss to his naked chest and inhaled him, breathing out as all tension left her. Vin was playing with the ends of her hair, his chin pressed to the top of her head and she heard his chuckle rumble deep inside of him.

"Is that even a thing?" He nibbled the top of her ear, teeth grazing it and causing Wendy to squirm as it tickled, "what's the limit?"

"80 hours per week..." she mumbled, trying to muffle the sound of her words. Vince heard her loud and clear though, because he tensed and moved under her, so he could glare at her.

"80?" He moved a hand from her head in order to count on his fingers, "that's... That's nearly twelve hours per day, Wendy. How did you even manage to- how many did you do?"

"Not important," Wendy pouted, moving up on the bed to press herself back against him, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, "not important at all."

"They suspended you," Vince scoffed, "it's a little fucking important, Wendy."

"No," she whined, kissing his neck, "not important at all."

It seemed it wasn't only her avoiding conflict, because while she could still hear his thoughts whirling and the answer on the tip of his tongue, Vince only grumbled and squeezed her into a hug.

She had driven over on a Tuesday and wasted all of Wednesday doing nothing in bed and recovering, so it was Thursday when Wendy felt like herself again. She was so happy to be with Vince, that she wasn't even pissed off when she woke up with him moving around in the barely lit bedroom.

"What time is it?" Wendy yawned, rolling on the bed and searching for her phone. Vince, who was in the kitchen area, quietly sipping coffee and watching her sleep, jerked slightly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you-"

"You didn't," Wendy rubbed her eyes, sitting up and studying him from head to toe, "you look so hot."

Her boyfriend grinned, lowering his mug inside the sink and crossing the room to kiss her, lips crashing against hers and pushing Wendy flat on her back, "it's your eyes."

"Uh-hu," Wendy sighed happily, fingers gently drifting over his curls in order to not mess them up. He had clearly been up for at least an hour, because his hair was humid but not wet and the curls were forming into spirals instead of the loose waves she saw after a shower, "mine and everyone else's in town..."

Vince paused, half lying on top of her, his chin resting in the valley between her breasts. He huffed out an amused breath, then caught her eyes, "I'm really sorry I wasn't here sooner when you were sick-"

"Oh, stop it," Wendy rolled her eyes, squirming so she could wrap her legs around his waist, "I said it before, we're fine. I'm fine. It was just a bad migraine and I wasn't even alone-"

"And what if Max hadn't saved you from the side of the road? There's no way you could've called me- And who knows if I would have even picked up mid class," Vince glared at her, "you could've been seriously hurt."

"That's on me for driving on top of a migraine, ho-"

"A migraine you got because you're overworked and exhausted," Vince sighed, moving so he could cup her cheek with a hand, "and you're overworked because you don't want to be home alone-"

"No," Wendy glared at him, shaking her head, "we're not doing this," she shoved his shoulder off of her, "it's too early in the morning for this bullshit."

"It's not bullshit, Wendy, it's your health-"

"No," Wendy cut him off, sharply, "I'm not having this conversation now."

Vince's shoulders dropped in a defeated manner, the pushover that he was, and he nodded, straightening up and pulling her in, in order to kiss the top of her head, "okay, we'll talk about this later."

How about never? Wendy thought bitterly, but leaned against his kiss.

"I'll come back for lunch-" he said thirty minutes later, as Wendy drove him to the school, looking more or less put together and awaken.

"Actually," Wendy started to drive into the school's parking lot, "I was hoping I could have lunch with Max?"

Vince's eyebrows shot up and he stared at her, speechless for a second, before he seemed to come back to himself, "Daniels? Max Daniels?"

"You know any other Max?"

"Do you?" Vince squinted at her and Wendy let out a surprised chuckle.

"Since when you get jealous?" She couldn't help but giggle, "Vince?! What the hell?!"

"I'm not jealous!" He corrected quickly, whole face turning red, "I'm not, I just- You don't even know him..."

"Yeah," Wendy was incredibly endeared by this weird new side of her boyfriend. She carefully kept her voice neutral, "I don't know him, but he did save my ass just two days ago and you wanna bring him to our next cabin trip, don't you?"

Vince looked like he was caught between a rock and a hard place, from the way that he spluttered and frowned, crossing his arms. Wendy pressed her lips together not to laugh and leaned over the handbrake, school parking lot be damned, resting her hand in her boyfriend's inner tight and pressing a kiss to his cheek, "Vin?"

He swore in Italian, a string of cazzo-merda-culo, and then nodded, "I'll let him know."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he turned his head to glare at her, "but I don't know if he'll agree, dude's a bit of an antisocial prick."

"Jonah's my best friend," Wendy shrugged, pressing a kiss to his pout, "I can handle him."

"Uhm," Vince pulled back slightly, glaring at her face, "Love you?"

"Is that a question?" Wendy grinned, kissing him harder and Vince melted against her, planting a hand on her nape and pulling her in, so lost in the kiss that they only pulled apart when there was a knock against the car window and Sophia appeared with her nose pressed to the window, making an amused but disgusted face.

"Duty calls," Wendy smiled, bumping her nose with his, "I love you."

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

Max wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say or do when Vince caught up with him just as his class before lunch started and said, "hey, my girlfriend asked if she can take you out for lunch today."

He had stayed frozen, speechless, for a minute too long because Vince frowned and let out an impatient noise, "so? Can I tell her you're going or not?"

Oh.

"Yeah, uhm, sure, of course," Max tripped over his words, then turned around and walked into the classroom, feeling like it was his best bet if he wanted to keep a scrap of his dignity. For all of the class his thoughts were scrambled, part of him thought he was fucked, that even if Wendy was about to be very nice with him, he had somehow messed his tentative friendship with Vince permanently by being just a tad too nice to his girlfriend. Mostly he was just lost.

Wendy was waiting for him in the parking lot, just outside the car wearing a stiff yellow dress and ridiculous chunky heels that made her look like Polly Pocket, except straight out of a 60s movie. She was wearing her sunglasses and waved when he walked out, causing Max to feel twice as self conscious as he had been before. This just felt weird.

He had a grimace on as he approached her and Wendy removed her glasses, a brilliant smile coloring her face, "hey," she gestured to the car, walking towards the driver's side, "I hope this isn't too weird, I just wanted to thank you for everything you did for me. You had no reason to stop and even less of a reason to stay... Specially after I puked down your shirt," she cringed, cheeks turning red and Max raised his eyebrows.

"I didn't think you'd remember that," he entered the passenger side, "you were pretty out of it."

"I wish I didn't!" Wendy's voice was bright and she slammed her door shut, "I'm really sorry," her fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel, "so where do you wanna eat? As long as it's nearby, because I gotta drop you off or the teenage girls will have my head on a spike."

Max snorted at that, rolling his eyes, "wherever, you're inviting me, you pick the place."

He was probably gonna get indigestion didn't matter where she picked, Max shrugged.

Wendy bit her lip, seeming to be thinking, "I don't know many places around here," she admitted after a beat, "but there's this cute restaurant I saw the other day..."

Max was fidgeting on his seat. This was more awkward than any date he had ever been to. All his dates were awkward to begin with, but at least he could flirt his way into less verbal activities and that didn't actually require him to have any social skills. Besides, he normally wasn't crushing on the boyfriends of the girls he went out with...

Wendy was talkative and she matched Vince's sunny personality to an overwhelming degree, so Max nodded along as she told him why she had picked her sedan instead of other models, how she really dug his aesthetic and how he had quickly become a talking point among her friend group.

"Oh really?" Max frowned, holding out the door of the restaurant for her and following her inside, "I didn't figure Monacelli talked all that much about me."

He tried really hard not to let it go to his head.

Wendy turned to look at him, her eyes sparkling, squinting as if she could read him like a book and he felt his mouth go dry. This was bad, very bad. There was a wisdom beyond her years in her eyes, some secret amusement that made him feel more like she was laughing at him than with him.

"Oh trust me, he brings you up enough," Wendy sat in front of him, scanning the menu in a way that made Max wonder if she had been here before, eyes barely stopping on the words, "he told me you were his middle school bully? How's that?"

"I wasn't his bully," Max pointed out, frowning, "I was a prick, I didn't pick on him specifically. He was just one of the many kids who got on my bad side one of those days."

"So you broke his arm, but it wasn't personal?" Wendy grinned, not looking at him, "alright. Well, I hope you're not a prick anymore."

"So much so that you're taking me out for lunch, ain't you, gorgeous?" he mentally patted his own back as he regained his game. He was not about to let a half foot tall woman chew him up like that.

Wendy glanced over the menu, a smile still hanging in her lips, "I guess so," she gestured to the waiter, "so you guys are friends now, right?"

"Yes," he said it too quickly, frowning, and Wendy nodded, then turned to rattle her order to the waiter. Max hadn't picked anything and he glanced at the menu once more and said the first thing that caught his eye.

"So why biochemistry?"

The question caught him off guard and it took Max a minute to collect his thoughts, "I flunked my last year of high school, don't know if Vin told you that."

"Nope," Wendy leaned forward, elbow resting on the table and watching him intently.

Max cleared his throat, "well, yeah, I did. Bad attendance, grades collapsing at a alarmingly quick speed, I spent most of the year getting high under the bleachers..." he rolled his eyes at his own past self, "so I flunked. Next year, it was rough..."

"Parents?" She guessed and he nodded, glad that he didn't need to draw it for her, like he would've needed to with Vince. The idea that less than stellar parents existed never crossed Monacelli's mind, but Wendy seemed acquainted with it already.

"Yep. They were already divorced, my father lives in the next town over, so suddenly my mom was like, either get your own place or go live with James," he cringed at the memory, the hurt that was still fresh. He had been saving to go live on his own at the time, but being kicked out? In such a dismissive way, even, his mother hadn't been trying to hurt him and they hadn't been in a fight, this was just how the Daniels worked.

"You were eighteen?"

"Yep," Max grimaced, very happy when their orders returned and he could focus on the food instead of Wendy's intense gaze, "I dropped out school, got a job in the gas station," he smiled to himself, "and started studying... And suddenly it was easy, like all the noise ceased."

"Oh wow," Wendy's voice raised a note at the end and Max glanced up, forking a bite of his chicken salad and stuffing his mouth to stop himself from spilling his heart out, "home was the issue?"

He nodded, cheeks still full and Wendy let out a little huff, mimicking his tactic of eating to avoid talking. They chewed in silence, and the she said, "I remember the first night I spent in my own apartment and that I sat down in my couch and I just... Cried. I spent so long romanticizing it and dreaming of it and suddenly it was real and I was so happy, all I could do was cry."

He had done very similar, except his version involved a lot more alcohol. Max offered her a closed lips smile, then looked down, "so I got my GED," he continued, "and I started to get really interested in science, molecules, monosaccharides, how the body worked with hormones and how we were all just electricity... I was obsessed," now his voice got a fond tone and Max continued to eat, "my boss was the one who told me I should apply to the community college."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was never gonna go to a big university," he rolled his eyes, "and even if I could get in, I certainly couldn't afford it and had already blown my chances to get a scholarship. Community College was the best option, I-" he paused to muffle a burp and then chugged his sparkling water, "I took the exam as a bet, bet fifty with my boss..."

"Oh no," Wendy chuckled, reaching in and grabbing the salt between them, "did you pay your him at least?"

"Her, and yeah," Max shook his head, grinning at the memory, "my mom was always this healthy nutjob. Very interested in being healthy, but all she knew was pseudoscience that she shoved down our throats. It was insane, mind blowing even, to get answers to things I had been asking myself since I was a kid."

Wendy was smiling at him from ear to ear, a cherry tomato poked in the front of her fork, forgotten, "and then teaching?"

"In college they used to grab my notebook to copy my notes," Max was now fully smiling, awkwardness melted away, "they first said it was because my handwriting didn't suck."

"I don't believe that," Wendy snorted, wrinkling her nose much like a bunny, "you look like your handwriting sucks."

"Well, fuck you too," Max poked her hand with his fork, causing her to squeal and pull it back, cheeks flushed as she smiled brilliantly at him, "but yeah, it kinda sucked. Not my schematics though, my drawings and graphs... I was- I am proud of them," he pushed a piece of chicken around, getting it covered in sauce, "so I noticed it was helping them, so around exam season, I'd actually put together a summary of our subjects, started charging for those. Not a lot, just enough to buy weed."

Wendy chuckled and Max took the last bite, "and then next thing I know, I'm having Sunday classes with my college buddies and I'm taking a minor into pedagogy and... It snowballed," he swallowed suddenly, feeling stuffed to gills and glanced down, realizing he had finished up the whole plate, "it's like I blinked and I was being offered to teach at my old high school."

She was staring at him, so Max cleared his throat, bringing up a hand to muffle another burp and mumbling a little, "excuse me- Ate too fast," and more than he had in most of his meals, "so, uhm- What about you? Vince couldn't be more smug about his doctor girl."

Wendy seemed to snap out of her trance, startled, and she reached for her juice, draining the rest of the cup, "I wish my story was half as wholesome as yours," she rolled her eyes, "or as heartwarming as Vin, who knew he wanted to be a teacher since he was ten... No. I wanted to be a fashion major."

Max raised his eyebrows, leaning back on his seat and spreading his legs, hoping it'd help with the heavy feeling in his stomach, "and from fashion to med school...?"

"Fashion was never an option," she scoffed, "I was not kicked out of home and I didn't have a job, I was a spoiled brat from Upper East Side and my parents are doctors... And it was always very clear that they would not even consider paying my college, unless I picked med school as well."

"Shit," Max grimaced, feeling slightly clammy at the thought of being forced into a major, "you didn't even like it?"

"I liked it alright, it just wasn't any fun..." Wendy shrugged, "but then I got to move for college, that part was amazing... The whole time, I was top of my class, I was doing the most, but I didn't fall in love with it, until I got my first patient. Second to last year of college."

He wondered if she hadn't fallen in love with it at all, if she'd still be stuck as a doctor just to appease her family. Felt like a too personal question.

"What happened?" His stomach let out a growl and Max fidgeted, pressing a hand to the lower part of his belly, hoping she couldn't see it.

"I got my first patient and it wasn't... Glamourous. Or pretty," Wendy smiled to herself, "it was in the middle of pandemic, I was hanging by a thread... And suddenly I made a difference. Hell, I made one hell of a difference and all I was doing was standard ER covid testing. Things were chaotic and scary and I wasn't just Wendy Marshall, studying to become a dermatologist and take over my mom's mini empire, I was Dr. Marshall and I was the thing keeping that woman in front of me together..." her eyes shone slightly, voice getting all choked up, "and... yeah. That was it, I was a goner since then."

Max's stomach chose this moment to make itself known, a wave of nausea washing over him and a burp sneaking up quick enough he had no chance of muffling it. His face caught on fire and he ducked his head not to see Wendy's disgusted look. They had been sharing... A moment? And now he felt like he was about to hurl.

"Max?" Wendy's voice was soft and she touched his wrist over the table, "hey, you alright? You just went white..."

"Sorry," he groaned, straightening up and pulling his hand from her hold, "sorry, I'm fine... Uhm, we should head back, I'm gonna end up being late."

"Yeah! Right, of course," Wendy looked spooked and shook her head, "I- I'm gonna get the bill, you wanna go wait by the car..?"

"I can take the bill," his voice was thick with nausea and Wendy had a glassy look to her eyes, a clear tell he had just ruined something. Max felt clammy all over.

"No, I invited you, remember?" Wendy stood up, jumping back when he attempted to take her hand, only for his hand to freeze mid air. What the fuck was he doing anyway?

"I'm gonna wait in the parking lot," Max grumbled, getting up as well. The parking lot was quite empty, peak lunch hour having already passed. He was most definitely gonna be late to his class.

Max leaned against Wendy's car, taking a deep breath and trying to lull his stomach into behaving. He was going to sick, that was for certain, but he hoped he'd at least make it to the end of the school day. Hell, at least out of her eyesight would be great.

Under his hand, his belly let out a growl and another sickly belch rolled past his lips, carrying with it the coleslaw taste. He glanced at the restaurant door, saw Wendy still at the cashier section, chatting with an employee, all smiles and bouncing on her feet.

He turned around, so he could hide by the trunk of the car and stared at the gravel, forcing up a small burp and spitting the thick saliva that was pooling in his mouth. Nope, he wasn't gonna make it until the end of school day...

"Here," Wendy touched his arm and Max nearly jumped out of his skin. He shot her a glare and she only smiled at him, so he glanced down and noticed she was holding a bottle of water, "you're pasty, Daniels."

"Uhmm," he couldn't and shouldn't open his mouth, if he got sick on her cute dress Max was going to pack his bags and move to the middle of nowhere, never to be seen again.

Wendy clearly didn't mind the fact he looked like he was about to revisit the meal they had just shared, because her tiny hand was coming to cup his forehead and his cheek, no permissions asked.

Max groaned, shoving a hand out and pushing her out of the splash zone as he braced forward, hands on his knees and legs spread out, "I'm sorry... Should've told you my gut is a temperamental bitch."

"Like its owner?" Wendy teased him lightly, her hand coming to rest on his back, "it's fine, you're going to be sick?"

He answered her with another burp, this one turning wet, but all that came up was a thin dribble of saliva. Max panted, impatient and humiliated, "can you- Urugh-" he belched in his hand, "go in the car...?"

"I'm a doctor," Wendy's voice came out annoyed, "your stomach might be temperamental, but mine is a strong. Relax."

"Not-" Max coughed and retched once more, another loud, brassy burp sneaking up, "not that. Embarrassing."

"Payback for seeing me at my worst the other day," Wendy patted his back and Max was about to tell her she was implying this was payback for helping, when his stomach churned once more and the next gag was productive. Incredibly productive, projectile vomit falling in the gravel and causing his ears to go deaf.

He hugged his belly, pressing a fist to it and digging in. It was bloated, not to his surprise at all, and let out a sickening sloshy sound when he pressed in- Max coughed up another liquidy stream, then opened his hand flat against his belly and pressed in and up, forcing up a chunkier mouthful of foul stuff.

He was getting nauseous on top of his nausea, disgusted it looked so much like food still- Wendy rubbed his arm, "Max?"

"Uhhhhm," he spat the taste, then finally took the water bottle she was still holding, taking a gulp and swishing it around before spitting it out, "why the fuck did I eat so much, so fast..."

Behind him Wendy let out a little snort, "that wasn't fast or much, you're clearly not acquainted enough with Vin," she squeezed his bicep, "done?"

He nodded, although he felt very far from done. The nausea had reduced considerably, though, still coating his insides in a way that he knew for sure would have him puking later as well. But for now...

Max pressed on his belly once more, forcing up a huge burp and Wendy let out a fucking giggle. Something was very wrong with this girl, he thought, straightening up. What sort of girl giggled when someone was hurling all over the ground?

"You're weird, Marshall," he said lightly, rubbing his face, "let's go back before I get fired for ditching my own lesson."

Wendy's eyes were pure mischief as she nodded, clicking her car keys, "alright... I hope you don't get carsick too."

"Get in and just drive," Max squinted at her, shoving her forward and causing her to laugh. Despite the queasiness and the fact his stomach was flipping and the humiliation causing his cheeks to burn, Max hid a smile of his own.