#i loved the message about her anger trying to tell her something. and how she needed to realize she had to live for herself

[mbat]

btw i know everyone didnt like elemental before it came out because it was advertised as yet another forbidden love story but i hope people actually watched it and realized its actually a really good movie with good themes and that it felt like, and was, more than just another forbidden love story imo

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I miss your tummy" you pout.

"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

[elikajinnie]

hello!! may i request a drabble or a spin off from forbidden taste!heeseung with his reaction or thoughts after taking the antidote for amortentia? and also how he’s desperate to find y/n and why she’s avoiding him for days? 🤭 thank you!! i luv a desperate man 😩

a/n: you may :3 i LOVED seeing this in my inbox when i woke up! And we do all indeed love a desperate man ;)

Warnings: ehm, a desperate man basically?

The fic in question --> click here

--

Heeseung was angry—no, he was livid. The moment the effects of the Amortentia wore off, his mind cleared like a storm breaking apart, and the first thing he thought of was you. Where were you? Why weren’t you there? He had searched and searched, every corridor and corner he could think of, but you were nowhere to be found.

It didn’t help that Yoonhee had been trailing after him, clinging to his arm, tears streaming down her face as she apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far! It was stupid—I know it was stupid, Heeseung, I’m so sorry!”

But Heeseung knew better. He could see right through her feigned remorse. The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t sorry for what she did—she was sorry she got caught. His patience, already paper-thin, finally snapped. He shoved her off and hissed, “Stay away from me,” before marching straight to a professor and reporting her. He didn’t wait to see the consequences unfold; he couldn’t care less. There were far more important things to deal with.

Like finding you.

You, who had been conspicuously absent through it all. You, who he hadn’t seen since after the Amortentia’s haze vanished. A knot of worry had formed in his chest, twisting tighter with every second that passed without an answer. He stormed into the courtyard, seeking out your housemates with frantic determination.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice sharp enough to startle a group of first-years nearby. “Where is she?!”

One of your friends finally stepped forward, hesitant but honest. “She’s... she’s been in bed all day. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”

The words hit him like a Bludger to the chest. Guilt and heartbreak washed over him in waves, drowning out the last remnants of anger. You had been suffering alone, likely because of him—because of what had happened, because of everything Yoonhee had done.

He tried everything—everything—to get through to you. He sent letters, each one carefully written, pouring his heart onto the parchment. He sent messages through your housemates, through your friends, hoping they might convince you to talk to him. Every time he saw a friend of yours, he’d stop them, desperate for any sliver of news.

“How is she? Did she eat today?” he’d ask, his voice laced with worry. “Did she sleep? Is she feeling any better?”

It was always the small things—tiny gestures—to show he cared. That he was thinking about you. That he was sorry. He wanted you to know that it had all been the Amortentia, that none of it had been real. None of it had been his choice. And above all, he wanted you to know that he never, ever meant to hurt you.

But no matter how hard he tried, you remained locked away. Your absence stretched between you like an invisible wall, keeping him out. You weren’t just avoiding him—you were avoiding everyone. And it hurt.

It hurt because he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t talk to you. He couldn’t hold you in his arms and kiss away the pain, couldn’t wipe the tears from your cheeks or make all your worries disappear. He wanted to tell you, face-to-face, how much you meant to him, how much he hated himself for letting this happen. But he couldn’t do any of that—not while you stayed hidden away in your common room, unreachable.

So, he waited. He stayed close, always looking for a chance, a moment, a sign. But until then, he would keep trying, keep hoping, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear.

And he did keep trying. Every day, he checked the places you’d usually be—the library where you’d bury yourself in books, the quiet corner of the courtyard where you’d sit when you needed to think, even the kitchens, where you’d sometimes sneak a late-night snack.

But you weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere.

The less he saw of you, the less he heard of you, the more desperate he grew. His patience—what little he had left—was wearing thin. He couldn’t focus in class, couldn’t eat properly, couldn’t sleep without his thoughts drifting back to you. He wanted—no, needed—to see you. To hear your voice, to know that you were okay, that you didn’t hate him. The thought of you hating him gnawed at his heart like a cruel curse.

He tried to remind himself to give you time, to respect the space you clearly needed. But it was hard. Too hard. Every day that passed felt like another piece of you slipping further away, and he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

When another one of your housemates brushed him off with a mumbled “I don’t know,” Heeseung snapped. He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the frustration and worry boiled over. “How can you not know? You live with her! Hasn’t anyone even seen her?”

The girl flinched but reluctantly admitted, “She’s been in the dorm. She just... doesn’t come out.”

Those words were both a relief and a torment. You were there, within reach, but still so far away from him. The knowledge burned in his chest, twisting into something unbearable. You were so close—just a few walls separating you from him—but it might as well have been an ocean. And he was drowning in it.

Heeseung's desperation grew with every passing moment. He found himself pacing the corridors near your common room, running his hands through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. He couldn’t stand this helplessness, couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, hurting because of him. The guilt was suffocating, pressing down on him like the weight of the castle itself.

He tried to write another letter, his trembling hands scrawling messy, frantic words onto the parchment.

Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know you don’t want to see me, but please, just let me explain. Please let me make this right.

He crumpled it and started again, feeling like no words could possibly convey the storm in his chest. How could he put into words how much he hated himself for what happened? How could he tell you that the worst part of it all wasn’t Yoonhee’s betrayal or the humiliation of being under the potion’s effects—it was losing you?

He sent the letter anyway, knowing it was just one of many you’d likely left unopened.

The next day, he cornered one of your closest friends in the hallway. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please tell her I’m sorry. Tell her... tell her I’ll wait as long as it takes. I just need her to know.”

The friend hesitated, giving him a pitying look before nodding. But he didn’t trust that it would reach you. Heeseung was running out of patience, running out of hope. Every time he thought about the tears you must have shed, the pain you must have felt, it killed him a little more.

Late one night, he found himself back outside your common room again, leaning against the cold stone wall, staring blankly at the entrance. He didn’t even know what he was doing there. Maybe he hoped you’d come out? Maybe he thought you’d sense him there, that you’d realize he wasn’t going anywhere until you let him in.

His fists clenched at his sides, and before he could stop himself, he let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against the wall, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes... I’ll wait for you.”

His voice cracked on the last words, but he meant it. Even if it hurt. Even if it felt like he was being torn apart. You were worth it. You were everything.

Eventually, the Christmas Ball arrived, but Heeseung didn’t want to go. The last thing he wanted was to pretend to enjoy himself, but his friends had other plans. They nagged him, teased him, and pushed him to "just have some fun for once." After a mountain of peer pressure, he reluctantly gave in, throwing on his suit and styling his hair without much care.

He still didn’t expect much. The Ball wasn’t going to fix anything—it was just a night to endure. He let his friends drag him along, had a drink or two, and resigned himself to the chatter around him. None of it mattered.

Until he saw you.

Everything else disappeared the moment his eyes found you across the room. You stood at the edge of the Grand Hall, illuminated by the soft glow of the enchanted snowflakes falling from the ceiling. Your dress shimmered, and you looked breathtaking. Stunning. Like a vision he didn’t deserve to see.

And then he realized—you were staring back at him.

His heart stopped. You weren’t avoiding him this time. You weren’t looking away. Your gaze was locked on his, full of something he couldn’t quite place—uncertainty, maybe? He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were here, and you were looking at him.

Before he could even process what he was doing, his feet started moving. His drink was left abandoned on a nearby table as he strode across the hall, weaving through the crowd until he was right in front of you.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

He had waited for you.

But now, he was done waiting.

For weeks, Heeseung had been nothing but patient, forcing himself to hold back when every fiber of his being screamed to see you, to talk to you, to fix things. He’d stayed away when he knew you needed space. He sent letters, messages, and even flowers, trying to show you he cared without pushing too hard.

And still, he never got a response.

But Heeseung told himself he could endure it, because you were worth it. He could be patient, be understanding, because he loved you. He was good for you, wasn’t he? He cared for you in ways no one else could. No one else would wait this long, worry this much, or fight this hard.

And yet, when he saw you standing there, in your pretty dress, something inside him snapped. He had been so good. He had done everything right. He had given you all the space you asked for, all the time you needed. But seeing you now, after everything, reminded him just how much he’d missed you. How much he’d longed for you. How much it hurt to be apart.

He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again. Not when he knew how good the two of you were together.

He didn’t ask for permission when he reached for your hand, didn’t even hesitate—he simply took it, his fingers curling around yours like they belonged there. Because they did. He believed that with every beat of his heart.

As he pulled you toward the corridor, he felt his resolve solidify. He had been patient, more patient than he thought he was capable of, but patience had its limits. He had waited for you to come to him, but you hadn’t. And now that he had you in front of him, he wasn’t going to let you go.

And when you didn’t fight him as he led you into the quiet hallway, it gave him hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, you wanted this too.

a/n: i love writing his pov :) also im not sure when you put ur perm taglist... so im not adding it here xD already posted so much.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- Caught in the Act

A+ in Pretend Love (Lando Norris x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- If you asked Zak Brown, he would advice never to store confidential contracts on the cloud. If you asked Lando, he would tell you to not fall in love with your fake fiance. If you asked Y/N, she would tell you to never date a famous person even if it's not real.

While Lando was being coached by his best friend to confess his love to his fake fiance; Zak's cloud was being hacked in hopes of finding some dirt on McLaren or their CEO to black mail but they didn't expect to hit the jackpot. Their contract was valid for 3-4 more months and the plan was to slowly ease Y/N out of Lando's life and say that things didn't work out because of their busy schedule.

What no one anticipated was they would wake up on Saturday morning to both their face plastered all over the news with the contract they had signed. The media was calling them all sorts of things from trying to fool them to trying to fool an entire country. There were people who had tracked her down and were now waiting outside Y/N's house in hopes of talking to her or at her work. She had to take leave from work since her professors were speaking ill of her. She couldn't imagine having to go back for her PHD programme. The worst were the fans; the name calling, the hate; it was all directed towards her as if McLaren were saint's in all of this. Lando also bore the brunt of a major chunk of the hate.

Zak just texted them telling them not to talk to anyone and to stay hidden till it all died out. Y/N wouldn't even talk to Lando at this point because she was so angry and hurt and didn't want to direct her anger towards him when it wasn't even his fault. She was sat bawling her eyes out at all the mean things the people were saying about her. It made her life extremely difficult, something she hadn't imagined happening.

Lando was a mess; McLaren told the media that Lando wouldn't be answering any question other than the race and if they asked any personal questions, he just walked away; adding fuel to the fire. The drivers were also gossiping among themselves. "No wonder she suddenly showed up. It was all a rouse" George whispered. "I mean I get why McLaren would do that, with Lando's antics" Alex reasoned. But as soon as they would spot Lando, they would stop whispering. "If you guys are gonna talk about my relationship" he said in animated quotation marks, "do it in front of me. I'll answer all your questions" he huffed and walked away, clearly hurt by his friends. Racing while it felt like his world was falling apart was proving to be very difficult. All his calls and messages to Y/N would fall on deaf ears and it was messing with him even more. He just needed to know that she was okay. He didn't give a rat's ass about how he was.

"Lando, I think, soon the media will get something else to talk about. You should just focus on your racing" Zak reasoned with Lando who wanted to put out a statement saying it was all their idea. "None of this would've happened had you not saved the damn contract on your cloud" Lando sighed angrily. "I don't understand how could you let something like that happen" he shouted walking away. The environment in the McLaren garage was tense to say the least.

Lando had hoped that things would quite down by now. The original timeline for his contract was also up but there was no shutting up about the fake relationship. Lando won his maiden win and yet the only thing they could talk about was Y/N. Part of Lando missed her, he had really hope to be able to share this moment with her. When he got out of the car, a big part of him wished she was there so he could run to her, hold her and maybe celebrate this win with her.

So, later that night, he did call her and she answered, her voice hoarse. "Congratulations Lando" she crocked. "Were you crying?" Lando asked worried. "Yeah, I'm just so happy you won" she said clearing her throat. Lando found himself smiling for the first time in a long time. "How have you been?" he asked her softly. "Same old same old. I thought things would quite down by now but they haven't." Y/N mumbled. "I'm sorry" Lando apologised. "It's a good thing I'm busy with research for my PHD. I have no clue how I would deal with people in my class" she sighed. "I'm so sorry Y/N. It's all my fault" Lando began before Y/N cut him off. "It's no one's fault. Things like this happen. I'm just glad they didn't rebuke my visa for this" she laughed trying to lighten the mood. 'I miss you' was stuck in both their throats as they continued to talk for a couple more minutes. "I think we should cut the call" Y/N suggested. "Oh" Lando replied. "I think it would be easier for the both of us if we stopped contacting each other. It was a hassle explaining the whole thing to my parents and my relatives. I just don't have it in me honestly" Y/N breathed out shakily. "I'll fix this" Lando tried to reason. "Don't Lando. I think this was it for us. I wish you the best. Take care" Y/N said it like it was their last time talking. "Please" Lando begged but Y/N cut the call; "But I love you" Lando whispered into his phone.

As the time went on and as the championship picked up, Lando's heart was in unrest. He felt like he had wronged the person who he loved and he couldn't live knowing that. So, he decided to sit down one day and film a video. He had seen the stuff people were saying about him and Y/N and he felt like it had been months; people should've moved on by now but if they couldn't he would make sure that they wouldn't be able to say shit about Y/N anymore.

The video began with Lando in his Monaco apartment; "Hi guys. Lando here" he began. He took a deep breath before speaking; "I would like to address my whole relationship with Y/N in his video. Part of me had hoped that it wouldn't come to his but here we are. Y/N and I did begin this relationship in a contract but it was the team's and my decision to do so. She was just a random person we ran into who ended up helping us. So, the whole gold digger narrative you all are spinning is a load of bull. I know I shouldn't've done that but I had no other option to clear up my image because that's what the team and sponsors wanted. Part of me had hoped that after the championship had started picking up steam you guys would have something better to talk about but hating on us for the decisions we made is too much. If you would like to hate on me or send me a ton of hate, be my guest but please leave Y/N out of this. She is innocent and doesn't deserve this. I would appreciate it if you would stop sending hate to the woman I actually loved. And to Y/N, if you're even watching, had we met in a different situation, I would've actually married you since I really do love you" Lando finished the video and after he was happy with it he uploaded it to his channel. He knew his PR team would give him shit but he didn't give a fuck. He just wanted Y/N to be safe.

The internet was in an uproar after Lando's public declaration of love. Some were calling it cliche and the others were swooning over Lando for taking a stand. People weren't very happy with McLaren and how they had handled the whole situation. Lando was being bombarded by calls from McLaren and they were angry at him for what he did. "Lando are you crazy? The sponsors won't stop calling. Why would you say that?" Zak shouted. "Because lying was what got us here. So, I cleared the air" Lando stated. "You are unbelievable and so difficult. I don't know why I tried so hard to keep you" Zak mumbled which Lando heard and it stung.

Y/N was on vacation with Becky who had taken her away since all she did was stay coup-ed up at home since the whole incident. Y/N woke up to a text from her mum; 'you'll want to see this. It's Lando' it read. Y/N quickly loaded the video and before she knew it, she was crying. She couldn't believe that Lando loved her. The craziest part of the video was the love confession honestly. She quickly called him and a groggy voice answered. "Y/N, is everything okay?" Lando asked worried. "Yes. Do you mean it?" she asked. "Mean what?" Lando asked confused. "What you said in the video about being in love with me?" she pleaded. "Yes. Every word. I've been in love with you for months and I couldn't tell you and it was killing me. It's fine if you don't feel the same. I just needed to let it out" Lando rambled. "I love you too you muppet" she laughed as tears were rolling down her face. "You mean it?" Lando asked pinching himself. "Yes. I love you so much Lando Norris" she said, by now Becky was also up due to all the commotion. "Are you free tonight?" Lando asked. "Ahh, I'm on vacation right now" she said slowly. "Let me know when you're back, I'll pick you up at the airport" Lando said, "I love you Y/N Y/L/N" Lando stated. "I love you too" Y/N replied before ending the call to explain everything to Becky.

True to his words Lando had come to the airport to pick her up, As soon as he spotted her, he ran to her at full speed almost knocking her down as he wrapped his arms around her waist raising her in the process to spin around for a while. "I missed you" he whispered putting her down with his head nuzzled in her neck. "I missed you too" she whispered running a hand through the back of his hair. "You made me dizzy" she whined as he pulled away to look at her. "Sorry" Lando smiled sheepishly. "About that date?" he asked. "Give me some time to shower and than I'm all yours" she beamed.

The two of them headed home. They went on that much needed date; at home with pizza and shitty rom-coms. They giggled as the pair on the screen kissed. When Lando turned to look at her and held her face like it was the most precious thing. "Can I kiss you?" he mumbled, eyes flickering to her lips. She nodded and Lando closed the distance between them, the kiss was sweet and needy; they had so many emotions running through them and some how this kiss was exactly what they needed.

"What about McLaren?" she asked a couple days later. "I'll tell them we're really dating but now I really wanna just protect you. I won't let anything happen to you." he stated. "I know" she hummed in agreement kissing his lips.

After spending the whole of summer break together, Lando came out to announce that he was actually dating Y/N. The team took it as well as you expect them to. The fans were going wild since this was truly out of a book. The other drivers were quite supportive and even apologised for their previous discretion.

With Y/N on his side, Lando felt like he could take on the world; good or bad. And Y/N was happy she agreed to fake date Lando since she got a real boyfriend out of this.

Tag list- @gamesetmatch-me @seonghwaexile @yootvi @hadesnumber1daughter @khaylin27 @abq654 @plotpal @charlesgirl16 @inarabee @a-beaverhausen @hwalllllllelujah

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. fuckin’ and arguing, fuckin’ again. after you said we not fuckin’ again, never say never, just say what it is.

07, CHAPTER SEVEN. WE COULD QUIT DELAYING.

ju speaks. rushed to get edit and post this for you guys before i go out tonight but hey, they’re even i guess… the love shown for this fic is UNMATCHED, i love you all. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual content… crash out p.

present day, june 2025.

paige: yo why you leave?

fr

you really just gon dip like that after everything i said to you?

read 11:12pm

i stare at the texts, the screen blurring for a second before i blink it back into focus. the strobe of my phone lights up the backseat of ana’s car, where i’m half-sprawled against the leather, her hand creeping up my thigh. my head’s foggy—not drunk, but just tipsy enough to feel audacious. ana’s lips skim along the side of my neck, hot and slow, and i don’t stop her, not at first.

i came straight to her job after i walked out of the game. i wasn’t gonna stay, pace the sidelines all night, pretend i wasn’t watching paige. pretend it didn’t eat me alive when i caught onto everything maya was telling me. showing me. so, i left. let paige have the last laugh (in her own eyes) while i drank my way through ana’s shift.

paige’s texts must mean she’s just now picking up her phone. took her long enough. probably had to say goodbye to maya first. the thought burns, and my fingers tighten around my phone.

“mm,” ana hums against my skin. it feels nice. “you’re so tense.” her fingers trace lazy circles against my inner thigh, lips grazing my jaw now.

i try to fall into it, but i scrunch my face up, pulling away slightly when my phone buzzes again.

paige: i know you saw ts

i do something? 11:14pm

bro answer the phone 11:17pm

i scoff, and ana’s lips pause. she pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyebrow raised. “that her?”

i nod, tucking my bottom lip between my teeth. “keep doing what you’re doing,” i breathe out. she smiles, all thirty two showing as she places a kiss to my lips before dropping to her knees.

paige: where are you? 11:21pm

i don’t think about why that’s her next question, i just stubbornly type back something vague.

nailea: i’m jusr out

paige: don’t play w me

out where?

who you with?

read 11:23pm

nailea: no one

read 11:24pm

i hear her tone through the screen—skeptical, irritated. i wait, expecting her to follow up with another question, but the screen stays stubbornly blank. no more bubbles, no texts.

i furrow my eyebrows, scrolling up the thread, reading her last messages again like i’m missing something. did she give up that fast? doubtful. paige doesn’t give up. she digs in. especially when it comes to me.

ana’s hands tug at the waistband of my shorts, and i lift my hips slightly, letting her pull them down. i yelp, smiling down at her when she pulls me closer to her mouth. my breath stutters as she kisses down low, everywhere but where i need her. she knows what she’s doing, and i almost let myself fully fall.

i almost let it go for the night.

almost.

and then i realize—paige’s last text, the one that asked who i was with—it didn’t feel like just a question. it felt like she knew something. she’s looking at my location.

i fumble with my phone, swiping through settings faster than i’ve ever moved before. the notification pops up immediately after i flick the toggle to off.

i’m probably only making her angrier. paige and i never stopped sharing our locations. not since high school when we weren’t even dating. no matter how bad the argument got, no matter how many times we called for a break up. i can’t find myself caring, though. i’ll match her anger.

you stopped sharing your location with paige at 11:28pm

paige: oh

😂😂😂

ight 11:28pm

imma ask you something 11:30pm

and istg nailea

she takes a moment to type, the text bubble going in and out, almost like she’s bracing herself for her own question. my head falls back against the seat, a shaky exhale escaping me as ana attaches her lips to my cunt, getting straight to work.

you with her?

i am. she knows i am. i don’t know why she’s asking.

nailea: why do you care?

paige: tf you mean why do i care?

are you with her?

somehow, the second ask makes me wanna be honest. the messier, the better. she deserves every ounce of what i throw back at her. my fingers hover over the keyboard, my head foggy from the drinks, from ana, from everything. i feel her pause for a second before her mouth returns to me, a measured dip of her tongue that drags the answer right out of me.

nailea: yuppp

she fucks me sioooo good p

could’ve been you tn

but i’m done

paige: no you’re not bro don’t say shit like that 11:34pm

call me so we can talk? 11:36pm

please baby

nailea: talk? like you talked w maya?

nahhhh i’m good

i know everything

you want her. go have her

paige: nai what the fuck did she tell you? 11:37pm

the part of me that knows better says to put the phone down, but the other part—the one paige always has a hold on—can’t resist. i need her to know what i know. i stare at the messages, my heart twisting in ways i wish it wouldn’t. the denial, the deflection—it’s textbook paige. she’ll never admit it. it’s not enough. it’s never enough.

paige: i told you how i felt

you KNOW how i feel about you???

you think i’d lie about that?

don’t let her mess us up

yes, i do. because you lie about fucking everything.

nailea: you tell maya you love her too?

btw her jeans? unzipped

i think i get the picture

a minute passed. two. three. i screw my eyes shut at the silent confirmation. she really did it, didn’t she?

paige: call me 11:41pm

my stomach drops, but i’m too far gone to care. ana’s hands grip me tighter, and i can’t tell if it’s to keep me grounded or to remind me that she’s the one here, not paige.

i drop the phone, letting it clatter to the seat, paige’s messages lighting up the screen like a flashing red light i refuse to acknowledge. ana’s name falls from my lips now, i let my hand fall into her curls, gripping her hair tighter, letting the anger burn out through her.

“there she is.”

i forget about everything else.

the beach looks perfect tonight, though i’m sure cam planned her and ben’s pre-wedding bonfire down to a tee. the weather, the crowd—everything’s falling into place. i’m happy for her. the fire crackles, sending out occasional pops, and people are lounging on blankets around it, standing, chatting in groups, soaking in the warmth as the sun dips below the horizon. it’s almost like a little piece of paradise.

i force myself to be in the moment, even though my mind keeps drifting back to the mess i’ve been trying to avoid for the past week, nearly two. paige. i’ve been dodging her calls and texts, shutting down every attempt she’s made to get me to talk.

i’ve been doing a fairly great job at it. dodging maya, too. but i spotted them near the pier, paige leaned against the railing, maya going off about something the blonde looks like she doesn’t wanna hear, and i’m right back in it. i furrow my eyebrows, as if squinting hard enough will help me lip-read whatever maya’s laying on her. but i can’t. and it’s infuriating.

oh, and ana? somewhere behind me, i think. i brought her here—like an idiot. i thought it’d help me focus, distract me from paige, but now i’m just starting to think it might’ve been a mistake.

“…you’ve outdone yourself. as usual,” rae says, and i snap my head back over to the conversation in front of me. i take a sip of my cocktail, the condensation dripping onto my fingers.

cam grins, brushing imaginary dust of her shoulders. “ben and i wanted something with everyone since the wedding will be a little smaller.”

i murmur my agreement as i take another drink, and i’m so lost in thought that i don’t notice rickea until she loops an arm through mine, dragging me away.

“hey, back,” i tease, waving away at rae and cam who didn’t seem to mind.

she leans in close, the smell of her coconut lotion wafting as she speaks just loud enough for me to hear. “you wanna tell me why ana is here?”

i shrug, and my eyes scan over the crowd until i finally spot ana by the cocktail bar. too far away. she’s been out of my sight for too long.

“damage control,” i reply, though the explanation feels like a flimsy excuse the second it leaves my lips.

rickea lets out a disbelieving laugh, tugging me a little farther from the group, out of earshot. “you mean paige control?”

the words hit harder than i expect, even in jest. my grip tightens around the glass, nails trying to dig into it. “she’s fine,” i say, but it sounds like i’m trying to convince myself of it.

kea tilts her head, eyes narrowing in that way she does when she’s reading you too closely. “sure she is,” she says, dragging the words out. her gaze shifts past me to the pier, where paige and maya’s conversation seems to have escalated. maya gestures wildly, while paige stands still, her jaw tight.

“it’s not my problem anymore,” i tell her flatly.

rickea stops in front of me, unliking our arms to cross her own, but the smirk stays. “mm-hmm. and ana being here has nothing to do with reminding paige of that, right?”

i nod. “right.”

the lie tastes bitter. because even if it’s true—if ana being here isn’t just about paige—it doesn’t feel that way. not when i feel the same sting of her actions that’s lingered all for nearly two weeks.

rickea studies me for a moment, her smirk morphing into something almost sympathetic, but she doesn’t press further.

“let’s just get you another drink. at the cocktail bar. where ana is.” she speaks in periods, and i shake my head, ultimately agreeing.

i let her pull me along, glancing back one more time at the pier where paige and maya stand like two actors in a scene i don’t want to watch. i catch a familiar set of blue hues already looking my way. ana’s name is still somewhere on my tongue, but it’s the wrong one, isn’t it?

the sun’s fully set now. most people are starting to head towards the house cam had reserved for the night for dinner and games she’d carefully curated. i can’t focus on the bonfire, on the mounds of people who would probably love to talk to me, or the stupidly perfect weather.

she’s over there, somewhere, and i can’t shake the feeling that she’s watching me, even though i know i’m not the one she’s looking at tonight. or at least not the only one.

not with ana here.

i push down the knot tightening in my chest and glance back toward the pier, where maya stormed off to just a few minutes ago. our conversation keeps replaying in my head, and every time it pops back up, it only makes me angrier.

“you’re not being honest with me,” maya had snapped, almost like she was sick of holding it in, and also like she was trying to keep it from carrying to anyone nearby.

“what the hell are you talking about?” i’d asked, leaning against the pier railing. i’d agreed to come over here to talk, and i’m starting to regret it. i didn’t want to be over here.

she gestured vaguely, her face flushed with every ounce of anger she carried. “you know exactly what i mean. you keep dancing around it like i’m stupid! like i don’t see what’s going on between you and nai.”

my stomach had dropped, but i didn’t let it show. “there’s nothing going on, bro.”

maya had then laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “right. that’s why you walked out on me at halftime to go looking for her, huh? that’s why she keeps giving you the cold shoulder every time you’re in the same room.”

she was grasping, but i couldn’t deny that she’d hit too close to home. “you’re imagining things,” i muttered, pushing off the railing, ready to end the conversation.

but then she’d stepped in front of me, her voice lowering. i looked down at her, quirking a brow. “no, i’m not. and you wanna know how i know?” she paused, waiting, and when i didn’t answer, she leaned in just enough to whisper, “i unzipped my pants on purpose.”

those words are still ringing in my ears.

nai walked out on me, angry and hurt, and nothing i’ve said since has convinced her otherwise. now i’m stuck here, catching hell for a mess i didn’t create. i wasn’t sure where it left maya and i, but it was wholeheartedly the last thing on my mind before i left.

i don’t even remember what i said after that—probably something defensive, because i didn’t want to believe it. maya had smirked, though, like she knew she’d hit her mark. “you can’t keep playing both sides, paige. someone was gonna call your bluff.”

i spot nai near the bonfire, rickea by her side. she’s wearing this long, heather grey skims dress that hugs her hips just right. she looks good. too good. she’s laughing, her head tilting back just a little, her hand brushing her hair out of her face, and for a second, it’s like none of it happened.

but i know her. i know the way her fingers curl just a little tighter around her drink when she’s tense, the way her laugh comes too quick, like she’s trying to convince herself she’s having fun. i know the way she’s avoiding looking at me. she’s pretending, and it pisses me off.

but then there’s ana. she’s standing by the cocktail bar, her long legs crossed casually as someone i don’t recognize talks her ear off. she’s everything nai probably thinks she needs right now, and i hate her for it.

ana doesn’t flinch when i slide into the space between her and.. whoever. she just glances at me, taking a slow sip from her drink before setting it down. her smile doesn’t falter, even as her eyes narrow, her stance shifting just enough to face me fully.

“well, if it isn’t the infamous ex,” she announces. somehow, the word ex makes everything remotely cordial i was gonna say fly out the window. “you always this bold, or is tonight special?”

i lean against the bar, letting the corner of my mouth tug into a smirk. “depends who’s askin’.” i glance down, then back up at her. “but you? you’re nothin’ special.”

she laughs, a cocky one, like i’m exactly where she wanted me. “you’re cute,” she says, tilting her head. “but you don’t scare me, paige.”

i furrow my eyebrows, but it doesn’t match the curve of my lips. “scare you?” i chuckle, letting the words roll off my tongue slow. “nah, i ain’t tryna scare you. just makin’ sure you know your place.”

her eyebrows raise. “and what place is that?”

“second,” i say easily, adding a shrug to the jab too. “always second. ‘cause you ain’t got her like i do.”

ana leans closer, her voice dropping to match mine. “you sure about that? ‘cause right now it looks like you don’t got her at all.”

alright.

the words hit where she wanted them to, but i don’t flinch. instead, i lean in just a little closer, my smirk widening. “you think you’ve got her? think she’s moved on?” i shake my head, glancing away from her, as if the ocean is more interesting than this conversation. “she’ll always come back to me, ana. you’re just a pit stop.”

ana doesn’t break eye contact, her smile tight now, but before she can respond, nai’s voice interrupts.

“ana.”

we both turn, and there she is, standing a few feet away, her jaw clenched, eyes not sure where to land, me or her. she ditched her drink, and i look to where rickea is, holding two glasses, and giving me a look like she knows what i’m stirring. i jerk my head up in her direction, as if to say, “what’s up?”

ana steps back immediately, her smile returning like it’s on autopilot. “right here, babe,” she says, moving toward her.

since when is she on babe status? was that another line to get under my skin? it worked.

nai doesn’t even look at me as she grabs ana’s arm, her fingers wrapping tight around her wrist. “let’s go.”

i can’t help myself. “what, no hello for me?” i call out, my voice etched with mock innocence.

nai freezes, her back stiffening before she slowly turns her head toward me. she looks like like she’s trying too hard not to give me anything. “you’re good at one thing, paige,” she says, her tone clipped, like she’s dismissing our talk as soon as it started.

i raise an eyebrow, my smirk deepening. “what’s that?”

“making a mess,” she spits, before yanking ana along without waiting for a response.

i watch them walk away up towards the beach house, and when i’m sure she won’t turn around, i turn towards the bar, stroking my chin.

“another, please.”

the beach feels different at night, quieter in a way that makes everything louder in my head. the waves roll in and out, and the moon is bright enough for me to see out. it should be peaceful, but it’s not.

everyone’s still inside, but after i told cam what happened, she offered me two blankets and a bottle of tequila to clear my head, and i, for one, wouldn’t turn it down. i can hear everyone’s laughter, the music. i couldn’t stay there any longer, let paige stare like she still had access to me.

i dig my fingers into the sand, cool and grainy against my skin, trying to ground myself. it doesn’t work. my thoughts are too loud, too messy, tumbling over each other in a tangle i can’t unravel.

i hear the soft crunch of footsteps on the sand. a pause. then her voice.

“nai?”

i don’t turn around right away, because i already know it’s her. paige. she sounds hesitant, like she’s not sure if i’ll even let her talk. maybe she’s hoping i’ll stay quiet instead.

“what are you doing out here?” she asks, a little too casually.

i finally glance over my shoulder, meeting her eyes for the first time since i stopped her antics by the bar. she’s standing there, a few feet away, her hands shoved in the pockets of her blue jeans, shoulders hunched like she’s trying to make herself smaller. i almost feel sorry for her. almost.

when i don’t respond, she asks another question. “where’s ana?” she takes a seat next to me, and the blanket’s large enough for the two of us. almost like it’s fate again. she wants to know. she’s still jealous, and i can feel the weight of that jealousy in the way she says it. the way she looks at me. like she’s waiting for me to tell her something she doesn’t want to hear.

“she left,” i say, not bothering to explain further. i don’t owe her that. ana has work in the morning, and i wasn’t gonna keep her here any longer as my rebound toy. not while i was already feeling bad about it.

paige exhales, and i hear the relief and frustration in it before she bites down on her lip. she looks down at the ground for a second, like she’s working up the courage to say what’s really on her mind. “look, about earlier… i’m sorry. shouldn’t’ve been bickering with your girl like that.”

i finally turn to look at her. “she’s not my girl.” her lips twitch, like she’s trying not to smile, and it sets something off in me. “that all you’ve gotta apologize for?”

she shifts, close enough that her knee brushes against mine. “that’s not what happened with maya.”

“don’t,” i say, shaking my head as i look away. “don’t sit here and lie to my face.”

“i’m not lyin’, nai,” she defends, leaning forward, trying to catch my eye. she’s almost pleading for me to believe her. “you think i’d do that to you? again?”

“uh? you want me to tell the truth?” i spit, and those seven words shut her right up. “i know. i saw it. her pants were unzipped. she was smiling at me like she got what she wanted. what the fuck am i supposed to believe?”

“me!” paige runs a hand down her face. “me… for once.”

silence. the kind i hate.

“you’re never gonna trust me, are you?”

“no,” i mutter under my breath, closing my eyes for a second, like that might stop the storm brewing inside me. but it doesn’t. it makes it worse. i hate how she’s still able to pull at me like this, how she knows exactly how to get under my skin, how she knows how to feel like home in a way no one else does.

but most importantly, i hate that she can do all these things, make me feel all these things, and still not be a better person for me.

she flinches like i’ve struck her, but she doesn’t back down. “you think you can trust her? ana? you don’t even know her.”

i scoff. “and you wanna argue with me about trust?” i snap, turning to face her fully now. it takes a lot of effort to not yell.

she shakes her head, exhaling slowly. “i don’t wanna argue at all, ma. just wanna have you.”

“just wanna have you.”

the words leave my mouth before i can stop them, and i hate how badly i need her to believe me. it shouldn’t have had to be like this. i don’t want to say it, but i know it’s true. everything else can wait. it’s her. it’s always been her. i just need her to hear me, to feel me—because she hasn’t let me show her anything in too long.

nai looks at me, her eyes softening just enough, and i can see the battle inside her—she’s pissed, but she’s still here. when her lips meet mine, it’s like everything i’ve been holding back for the last week and a half explodes. i sink into her, tasting the tequila in her kiss. everything about this feels wrong, but it feels right too. she’s still here, still letting me touch her.

she pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes narrowed but warm. vulnerable. it’s a look i know all too well, one i never wanted to see again, but somehow, i’m grateful for it. i hate how much i’ve hurt her, how much i’ve fucked this up, but i’ll be damned if i let her walk away without trying.

“what can i do to make you believe me?” i ask, my voice cracking just a little. there’s desperation there, but there’s also hope—hope i shouldn’t have, but i can’t help it.

“explain,” she whispers, barely audible, her lips still swollen from our kiss.

i don’t even have to think about it. the words spill out like i’d been waiting for the change. “maya knows. she’s… she tried something out, tested you to see if it was true. she knew i was lying to her about us. i didn’t—i didn’t want that to happen. not like that.”

her eyes search mine, like she’s trying to read through me, and it makes me want to break. shit, she’s so close. her body is almost against mine, and the urge to touch her is too much to ignore. before i can stop myself, my lips are trailing down her neck, tasting the skin there, trying to get closer, to make her feel how much i need her to understand.

“i didn’t touch her,” i mutter against her skin, my hands finding their way under her dress, fingertips grazing her hips. “i swear, nai. you’re it. you’re all i want.”

the words are coming faster now, and everything about her—her scent, the way her skin feels beneath my fingers, the way her breath hitches as i kiss lower—it’s too much. i don’t know if i’m trying to make her believe me or if i’m just trying to keep her here, to keep her from leaving me again.

i look up at her, my lips just inches from her own, and i can see the hesitation, the fight still in her eyes, but it’s softer now. she’s softening, letting me in.

“i shouldn’t have made you doubt that,” i whisper, my breath hot against her ear as i lean in closer. i can feel her body trembling under my touch, and it drives me wild. fuck, i’m so close to losing it.

and then i’m kissing her again, this time deeper, more messy. i don’t have time for any more words. all i need is this. her. me and her.

before i know it, she’s guiding me down, her hands threading through my hair as she pulls me closer. she doesn’t say anything more, but i don’t need her to. i can feel it—the way her body moves against mine, the way she breathes my name like it’s the only thing that matters.

and then i’m all the way down in front of her, looking up into her eyes, feeling her breath catch. she’s so fucking beautiful. i don’t care about anything else. just the way she looks at me, like i’m everything she needs, like i’m the only thing that matters.

“fuck,” i murmur, my hands moving up her thighs as i hike her dress up over her hips. i hear her let out a soft gasp as my lips drag over her stomach, leaving kisses in its wake. my fingers hook into the band of her panties, and i look back up at her for confirmation that this is okay.

she’s lost in it, finding my eyes once i stop. i give her a smirk, and she rolls her eyes. “yes, paige.”

“tell me you want it.”

“so badly,” she retorts.

i move more of the grey fabric out of the way before i drop my head again. she spreads her legs further, just enough for me to dip my tongue in between her folds, and sure enough, she’s wet already.

i wrap both of my hands around her thighs, veins poking through from the grip as i pull her closer to my mouth. i suck a little harder, lapping up her juices and pushing it right back in.

she arches her back, indicating i’m doing something right. “feel good?” i mumble, and she meets my eyes, nodding rapidly. i chuckle against her, teeth grazing her cunt, and she jolts.

“shit, paige. don’t do that,” she scolds.

“why not?” i stick my tongue out again, swiping it through her folds slowly before sucking her clit into my mouth. her head falls back, jaw open to let out some whiny, pornographic moan, like she’d been holding it in.

“gonna make me c—ha—ome quicker.”

when i slide a finger in, she tenses up a little, body rising to the sky, not expecting the stretch. “relax, i got you,” i chastised her, diving back in to mouth at her clit. her moans are like music i never wanna turn off, and i’m enjoying myself way too much to think i couldn’t do this for the rest of my damn life.

“paige,” she gasps, biting down on her lip in attempt to refrain from being too loud. i don’t want that. i wanna hear her. my name falls from her lips in a breathless moan, and i groan.

“say my name again,” i purr, finger curling inside her like it’ll drag it right out. “i love hearing it, baby.”

“mm, paigeeeee.” she drags it out purposefully. it makes me smile.

she quickly grinds against my face, hand in my hair pushing me in further. deeper. i place my free hand on her stomach, pushing her dress up as it travels higher, right over one of her tits. she wasn’t wearing a bra.

i groan against her again, continuing my assault on her clit. “you taste so good, nai. so fuckin’ good.” i feel her dripping from my mouth, out her hole, and i know she’s closer to the edge, closer to soaking this blanket up.

she brings her hand up to her chest, embracing her own with mine, adding just enough pressure in the way she likes. “just like that,” she breathed. i added another finger that slid in with no problem, making her yelp out, tightening her grip on my scalp.

“so close, p. just like that,” she repeats.

with one quick curl and movement, i can tell the tension she feels building up in her stomach. i remove my hand from her breast, using it to keep her legs open as she lets go. she repeats my name over and over again. it sounds like sin on tongue.

i stare at her in awe as she finishes on my fingers. they catch most of it, and i dip my head down to taste that too as she falls back completely, chest heaving, dress disheveled.

i give her a moment before i move back up. she stays there, out of breath, not moving once. i place a wet kiss to her lips, and she winces at the sensation, pushing my head away.

“gross!”

i laugh, and my chest warms at her smile, even through the dark. “you were right, you know,” i finally say, leaning to sit up on my elbow, like i didn’t just wreck this girl.

she rolls her eyes. “i always am. about what, though?”

“‘bout me being good at making a mess.”

[1-imaginary-girl]

Wolf Bite Pt. 2

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: Two weeks have passed since Klaus healed you and the two of you have gotten a lot closer. But when your friends find out about this, they have more than a few choice words for you. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: angst followed by comfort

Word Count: 4755

Part 1

A/N: I've been excited to write this one, I love some good angst but with a happy ending. I might have made the gang a little meaner than I think they are but at the same time, I can see them doing this lol. Also I might want to do another part which shows the more romantic side of their relationship, since this one's kind of lacking, and also where the gang gets what they deserve so let me know if that's something you'd be interested in! I love reading your comments. Okay enjoy!

It’s been a few weeks since you got bit by a hybrid. Since big bad Klaus Mikaelson saved you and told you he genuinely liked you. You’re still reeling from the incident and processing how you feel and what to do next. Your friends have been less than helpful.

That night, when your friends returned to find you no longer on your deathbed, they rejoiced for about 5 seconds. Joy quickly gave way to confusion and suspicion as they wondered how you were suddenly okay. Although a part of you wanted to keep Klaus’s visit to yourself, to keep that little moment untouched, you knew you had to tell them. Their reactions were not what you were expecting.

The group immediately scolded you for letting Klaus into your house. They were convinced that it was part of a larger scheme to have access to your home, with only Elena and Bonnie trying to argue that maybe he did it because he liked you. You felt reassured until they were eventually convinced otherwise. 

Of course, when you tried to explain how you felt and that he wanted nothing in return, no one believed you. That was the first time you felt real anger towards your friends. Not only did they leave you to die without even trying to ask Klaus to save you, but they were blaming you for saving yourself. Your anger was not met with sympathy as the group began to guilt-trip you, reminding you of all the horrible things Klaus has done and shaming you for defending him. After a while, you gave in to their words and let the anger go like you usually do. Well, not all of it.

The only person who truly made you happy these days, was the man in question. The only one who seemed to care if you survived. But more than that, he cared if you lived.

The morning after his visit, you awoke to discover that Klaus had left you his phone number along with a message that read: So I can do a better job of reminding you ;). You immediately remembered what he meant and it made you smile.

Since then, you and Klaus had been texting every day. He continued to check up on you and send good morning texts and you began to open up to him, sometimes being the person to text first. You feel like you have nothing to hide with Klaus and that you can be yourself without worry. You’ve learned a lot about the hybrid through the texts. For example, he can be really funny and will make horrible puns to make you laugh. You feel comfortable joking around with him.

Also, as promised, he has continued to shower you with compliments which make your day. You also start to believe his words and gain a little more confidence in yourself. 

Overall, you feel like you have become a lot happier since texting him, as well as hanging out more with Rebekah. The female original had also taken a liking to you at the start and your friends aren’t as opposed to you being friendly with her, although they don’t know how often the two of you hang out.

She was absolutely furious to hear about the hybrid bite incident and she blamed your friends more than her brother (although not completely absolving him of blame) for bringing you into their danger. She insisted that the two of you hang out more so she could look out for you which warmed your heart.

With your time being taken up by the Mikaelson’s, you find yourself drifting away a little from your friends. You don’t tell them about your friendships with the Mikaelson’s for obvious reasons and because you know they’d never believe you. They’re still cautious around you, suspicious that having Klaus’s blood in you might have changed your allegiance somehow like his sired hybrids. Personally, you think that’s ridiculous and doesn't make sense. You barely even talk about them when you’re with Klaus or Rebekah. But you also don’t want to add to their superstitions.

Still, you feel a little guilty for not seeing them as often, so when you hear from Bonnie that the group is meeting at Elena’s house to discuss some new problem, you decide to tag along.

Now you find yourself in the same position as always, standing in a corner listening to the group discuss plans while they ignore your presence. Not that you’d have anything to say. The discussion is over what to do with Alaric and his other half, but frankly you start to tune them out. You just wanted to hang out as normal friends, not as supernatural creatures facing another threat.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to see a text from Klaus: Hello beautiful, want to meet up for a bite to eat? 

Then he sends another text: Of the human variety, of course ;)

You smile and shake your head. You text back: I’m hanging with my friends, remember? The distraction is welcome as you wonder how long this meeting would take. You wonder if you should ask the girls to hang out after it wraps up. You haven’t had a girl’s day in a while. Although the thought of asking makes your palms sweaty and your stomach flip.

He texts: Aw, but wouldn’t you rather hang out with me? I promise I’ll be more fun.

You bite your lip to constrain your grin. You text: That’s not the point.

He immediately replies: Ah, so you don’t disagree?

You can’t help the small chuckle you let out. Unfortunately, the noise draws the group’s attention to their neglected member.

“Something you’d like to share with the class?” you hear Damon say. At first you don’t think they’re talking to you, but when the silence drags on, you lift up your eyes to find them all staring at you. Your cheeks quickly heat up.

“N-no, sorry,” you say, trying to remember what they were talking about to pretend as if you were paying attention.

You catch Caroline narrowing her eyes. “Who were you texting?” she asks and you stare at her shocked. You don’t know how she knew, or maybe she guessed, but your panic rises nonetheless.

"No one, nobody, uh—a classmate," you scramble to come up with a lie but you’ve been put on the spot.

“I don’t buy it,” the blonde says. You become too caught up in trying to figure out a way out of this awkward situation that you don’t notice the flurry of movement until it’s too late. Caroline speeds over and swipes your phone from your hand before you can react.

When her eyes meet the screen, they widen and your stomach drops. You speed over to her and grab the phone back before she can read your private messages, but the name of the contact had already been revealed.

“You were texting Klaus?!” Caroline yells, her confused and angry look quickening your anxiety. Unfortunately, this only causes a chain reaction within the group.

“What?”

“What the hell Y/N?”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

A bunch of angry voices shoot your way and you’re too overwhelmed to respond properly. Still, you make an effort by saying, “I can explain—” But they just talk over you.

“Why are you texting him?” Elena asks which quiets the group as they wait for an explanation. Your throat dries up but you try to clear it.

“W-well, he left his phone number the night after he healed me—” 

“Of course he did!” Damon exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. You begin to feel frustrated that they won’t let you talk.

“He’s just been checking up on me,” you say. It's not entirely the full truth but you’re trying to diffuse the situation.

“Y/N, Klaus is extremely dangerous. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Stefan says in a softer tone that only makes you feel talked down to.

“He has done nothing but terrorize us since his murderous family moved to town!” Caroline yells, not at all softening her voice.

You clench your fists. “I know he’s done bad things, believe me I do, but he’s started to open up to me. I think he’s more complex than you guys think,” you say, finally speaking your piece. When you’re met with incredulous looks, you try to reason with them. “It’s not like everyone here is perfect or hasn’t done evil things.”

“Oh my god, you actually believe him,” Damon says, in disbelief and with a condescending smile. “You actually believe that he’s in love with you.”

Tears prick at your eyes at the implication and you look at the ground. “Damon,” Bonnie hisses. But it does nothing.

“No, I’m sorry, but you’re an idiot if you believe that. Klaus doesn’t have a heart to give,” he continues. He shakes his head with a laugh. “I mean, I bet he’s just been manipulating you to tell him our secrets.”

Your anger grows but that last sentence seemed to strike a chord in the group and the energy in the room suddenly becomes tense. “Wait, Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re in love with him,” Elena says in a concerned tone.

“Have you been spying on us for him?” Caroline asks. And just like that, the group’s paranoia brought on by the wolf bite resurfaces in full force as they all give you suspicious looks. You don’t believe this.

“God, no, you guys aren’t listening! We are just friends, and we only text each other,” you say, practically pleading with them to hear you out. But your anger remains boiling below the surface. “And we don’t even talk about you guys! Do you honestly think I would betray you that quickly?” You try to meet each of your friend’s eyes to get them to see rationally.

“Y/N, I think you’re making a huge mistake,” Elena says, completely avoiding what you’ve just said. You stare, shocked.

“We’re just trying to look out for you; he’s only going to hurt you in the end,” Bonnie pipes in.

“Yeah, so why don’t you go ahead and end this before you do something you regret,” Damon says. All of their words circle around in your head and suddenly you lose control of your fury. You can’t help it. You snap.

“Oh my god, just shut up!” you yell. “You guys have no idea what you’re talking about. Do you have any idea how miserable I have been for the last few months? All of you have slowly started to ignore me and cut me out of this group and I felt so alone. Now, I’ve finally found someone who has noticed me and who makes me happy, even if that person is Klaus, and you have the gall to stand there and tell me that he’s the one who’s going to hurt me? That you’re ‘looking out for me’?”

You breathe heavily, staring at your friends as they digest your words. But of course, Damon is the only one to open his mouth.

“You’re so naïve,” he scoffs. You glare at him.

“Am I Damon? Tell me, of the two of you, which one saved my life while the other stood back and was willing to let me die.” You look at all of your friends with burning tears in your eyes. “You were all just going to let me die.” A few of them have the decency to look ashamed. You shake your head and say the thing you’ve been holding back for weeks. “The Mikaelsons have been better friends to me in the past few weeks than you guys have been in years.”

A heavy silence coats the room. You feel a weight lifted off your chest. You had been quietly holding on to that anger, that resentment, for too long now. Maybe that’s what’s been keeping you from your friends. Maybe now that the truth has been laid out, you can start to rebuild. Your hope is quickly shot down.

“Well then, why don’t you go join their family? Because you are no longer welcome in this group,” Damon says. The sombre words make your anger fizzle out. Your jaw drops in shock and you find yourself struggling to breathe.

“That’s not true—” Bonnie says, glaring at the Salvatore.

“No he’s right,” Elena says. One of your closest and oldest friends, someone you’ve known since childhood, now looks at you only with disdain. “It’s them or us. And it’s clear which side you’ve chosen.”

You shake your head silently as a tear rolls down your cheek. The reality of the situation is quickly crashing down on you.

“You should probably go now,” Caroline says. You take that moment to meet each of your “friends” in the face. You silently plead with them to say something, to stand up for you, to fight for you. But it’s clear that that’s not going to happen. You’re either met with a glare or they won’t meet your gaze at all. You hold yourself together and, somehow, find the courage to walk away from them.

When your hand reaches for the doorknob, you hear Damon say, “Don’t be surprised if they don’t want you either.” You freeze. You take a deep breath and leave the house.

No one comes after you.

†††

Your feet carry you past your house. You don’t want to be in an empty home right now. But you also have no idea where to go. A hole is burning its way through your chest as the devastation from your friends wreaks havoc on your mind. The thought occurs that you could go to the Mikaelsons but you immediately shut that down. You hate it, but your friends words continue to hold sway over you. You start to convince yourself that they wouldn’t want you either.

You walk until you reach the edge of the woods and keep walking. Tears continue to trickle down your chin but you haven’t let your feelings out. Hidden from the town, you spot a fallen log and decide that’s as good a place as any to cry.

You slump down and take one deep breath before releasing the sobs that have been building in your chest. The world goes dark as you bury your head in your hands. What have you done? You single-handedly isolated yourself from the group. And you now feel utterly lost as you realize how dependent you have become on the group to define who you are. What use do you have now that you’re alone?

Dark thoughts continue to swirl over you as the tears rain from your face. You can’t go on like this. Maybe you should just go back and apologize to everyone. Just as you consider that option, your ears perk up at a distant sound. You bite down on your lip to silence your sobs as you listen for what you heard.

A twig snaps near you and your breath catches. You whip your head to the right, preparing yourself for the worst, when your eyes catch those of Klaus Mikaelson. A part of you feels better at the sight. Another part can't get what your friends said out of your head.

“Y/N?” he says, his face questioning. You try to quickly wipe away the tear tracks from your face, but it’s no use. When he takes a better look at you, his expression drops and he speeds over to you. “What happened?”

He’s on his knees before you. His eyes roam quickly over you, trying to spot any injury that might be causing you pain. You try your best to avoid the problem. “It’s nothing,” you say quietly, trying to keep the hurt from your voice. His concerned gaze indicates it did not work.

“It is not nothing,” he says, definitively. He waits for you to tell him, but you can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to figure it out for himself. When you don’t speak, he does. “I don’t understand, I thought you were supposed to be with your fri—” His eyes widen when you accidentally choke on a sob, filling in the blanks for him. You watch through blurry eyes as a dark cloud descends onto his soft features. When he meets your gaze, his eyes are glowering. He lowers his voice. “Did one of them do something? Tell me who did this to you.”

Even in your broken state, you know his anger isn’t directed towards you. You don’t fear his reaction and instead try to explain. You shake your head as you say, “I was with them and…we got into a fight.” You bite down on your lip as a sob threatens to take over your speech.

This only further ignites the fire in Klaus. “Where are they? I’ll tear out their throats,” he growls, looking past you as if trying to look for them from here. 

You lower your head, avoiding his reaction when you whisper, “It was my fault.” From the corner of your eye, you watch Klaus focus his attention back onto you. His anger melts into concern.

“What?” he asks, his voice returning to a softer tone. You lift your head and meet his worried gaze.

“It was my fault.” Your voice trembles and a tear rolls down your face. Klaus’s face becomes contemplative as he slowly wipes the tear from your cheek. Then he moves to sit beside you on the log.

“Tell me what happened, love.” He patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts. You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself and Klaus places a hand on your back in support. You send him a small, grateful smile before it drops.

You shift uncomfortably as you try to think of a way to begin. “Well…it kind of started because I was texting you,” you say awkwardly. His eyes widen and you see guilt cloud his features. You reach out and drape your hand over his to silently reassure him that he has nothing to feel guilty about. He brightens and you find the strength to continue.

“Um… they found out that I’d been talking to you and…they got angry with me,” you say slowly dredging up the conversation in your head. Your eyes begin to well with tears again and Klaus squeezes your hand. “They…they told me how you were a bad person and that I shouldn’t be seeing you.” You don’t see Klaus’s jaw clench as he looks away from you. “But I told them that that’s not how I see you.” His eyes return to you and he can’t help himself from interrupting.

“It’s not?” His words catch you off guard, specifically the shock and insecurity in them. You look at him and furrow your eyebrows.

“Of course not,” you say and he parts his lips in surprise. You think you see his eyes start to tear up but that could’ve just been you. 

Then he clears his throat and says, “Sorry, continue.”

“They…they told me that I was an idiot for thinking like that.” Klaus’s feature harden once more. “They said that you’ve been manipulating me and that…that you would never actually like me.” 

“Y/N…” He says your name with concern, but you won’t look at him. You don’t want the truth, not yet.

“They kept saying how they were just looking out for me, how you were using me to spy on them, and that you would only hurt me. Nothing I was saying was getting through to them.” Your fists clench as you remember the anger from before. Klaus notices and his worry only grows. “I just…I snapped. I finally told them how I’ve felt neglected by them for months. How they’ve ignored me time and time again and that I was finally happy for the first time in a long time. That’s because of you and your family.”

If you were paying attention, you would’ve seen Klaus’s face glow and his heartbeat speed up. He looks at you so intensely that his gaze could burn a hole through you. He looks at you like you are a beautiful light created just for him. Of course, his anger still burns strong at hearing your so-called friends treatment of you, but he never thought that he would be your light. But of course, you didn’t see any of this.

Your body deflates as your anger is overpowered by sadness. “Then they told me I should just go ahead and join your family because they weren’t my friends anymore.” Your breathing stutters as more tears slip past your eyes. You faintly feel the squeeze of Klaus’s hand. “I watched as all of my friends turned on me and kicked me out.” With the pain reigniting, you can’t hold back your sobs anymore. “And now,” you choke out. “I’m alone.”

As soon as you finish talking, Klaus is quick to envelope you in his arms. You grip his shirt tightly and bury your face into his neck. He holds you just as tight, with one hand around your middle and the other delicately holding the back of your head. 

“It’s okay, you’re alright,” he whispers, continuing to hold you tight as you let out all of your emotions. He continues to whisper reassurances until sobs stop wracking through you. He waits until your breathing has returned to normal before gently pulling away. Your grip slips away as you sniffle, trying to recompose yourself. But he only pulls away enough to place his hands on your shoulders. 

You reach up to get rid of the wetness on your face, but his hands beat you there. As his hands gently brush away your tears, you focus your attention on the man in front of you. The two of you are only inches away and your breath hitches with the realization. You’re suddenly embarrassed that he’s seeing you like this, and you’re sure your face looks like a complete wreck. But he only continues to look at you with concern and empathy.

His hands return to your shoulders as he offers you a small smile. “Okay?” he asks and you nod your head, sniffling one last time. He nods, his smile remaining as his hands fall into his lap. You notice, though, that he makes no move to distance himself from you. His smile slips from his face as a somber look replaces it. You’re afraid of what he’ll say with his face looking so worried.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, love,” he says. Then his eyebrows furrow. “But, why do you say that it’s your fault?”

You are not expecting that question. Your eyebrows rise in surprise. “Oh,” you say, trying to answer without dredging up anymore intense emotions. “Well, I started the whole thing.” That answer does not satisfy the hybrid as he continues to look at you. You start to become nervous. “I mean, I knew how they felt about you. And I ignored them.”

“Do you regret getting to know me, then?” he asks trying to keep up his indifference, but a wall is built nonetheless in preparation of your answer. You only widen your eyes.

“What? No, of course not.” Klaus releases a small sigh of relief. You’re starting to understand what he’s hinting at, but you’re not prepared to listen and you scramble to come up with something to defend your friends. “But…maybe I should have told them instead of keeping it secret. Or, I shouldn’t have brought you up or—”

Two hands are placed on either side of your face as your bleary eyes meet his. He waits a moment before speaking. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You squeeze your eyes, trying to block out the truth. But his hands don’t move from your face. “Your so-called friends are the ones who are in the wrong.” You take a deep breath and meet his gaze. His lips quirk upwards. “You deserve so much better than them. You don’t deserve to be treated that way.” You open your mouth on instinct, but any words of defense die on your tongue.

“I just…they’re all I’ve ever known. I didn’t want to lose that,” you say instead, the reality of the situation settling slowly in your mind. Your panic and grief at losing them is melting into acceptance and, if you’re honest, a bit of relief.

“I know, love,” Klaus says with a sad smile as he lets go of your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I wish they had been kinder to you. But they haven’t been acting like friends. You shouldn’t have to defend yourself to them or fight to make yourself seen and heard.”

You nod along, looking at your hands. “I suppose,” you say, which makes him smile at your progress. 

“And you’re wrong, you know.” His words causing you to look up in confusion. “You are not alone. Not if you don’t want to be.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“You’re always welcome with my family and I, no matter what your friends say.” Your eyes light up.

“Really?” 

“Of course, love,” he chuckles, relieved to see hope return to your face. “We happen to like you very much and would love to see more of you. If you’d like that, of course.” 

“I’d love that!” you say, a bit too enthusiastically. You blush and clear your throat. “I mean…I think I’d like that.” Klaus laughs which brightens your smile. You take a deep breath and you suddenly feel much lighter. “Wow. I don’t remember the last time I’ve felt this good.” Your smile dips. “I guess my friends really were holding me back, huh?”

Klaus offers a sympathetic smile. Then he takes your hand and squeezes it. “Well that’s all in the past now, right?” 

You nod. “Right.” You look at him and giggle as something hits you. “I promise, I’m not always in this much distress.”

He chuckles along, but gives you a genuine look. “You’re allowed to have off days. I certainly do.” You laugh. You take in the beauty of the man sitting before you, the man who is supposed to be villainous and evil instead helping you feel light and happy.

“Well thanks for coming to my rescue for the second time.” The both of you smile, and you suddenly look at him seriously. “Seriously, thank you Klaus.” 

He blinks back his surprise as he takes in your serious features. He recovers with a smile. “Anytime love.”

A silence falls over the two of you, and as much as you’d like to spend forever in this moment, today’s events have both emotionally and physically drained you. You take a look around and notice the darkness of the woods. 

“It’s pretty late, huh,” you say, awkwardly trying to transition the conversation. Luckily, Klaus catches on quickly.

“I could walk you home if you’d like.” You almost reply with a yes, but then you hesitate. The thought of returning to an empty home, all alone with your thoughts again, doesn’t sound too appealing. “What’s wrong?”

You’re surprised that he noticed your hesitation. But you tell him the truth. “I just…I don’t want to be alone right now,” you say, avoiding eye contact as you can’t help but think of your statement as pathetic. Klaus’s face softens and he thinks for a moment.

“You could come home with me, if you’d like.” His gentle voice soothes your worries. At first, your cheeks heat up at the implication. And then your anxiety causes you to spiral.

You turn to him with wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to imply that I should come over—I mean I’d love to, I mean I just wouldn’t want you thinking that I was seeking your attention or anything—”

He shuts you up by placing both hands on your shoulders again. You guess he noticed it helped the last time. You stop talking and look at him to see a calm expression. “I would be honoured to have you in my home,” he says with a smile. You release a breath of relief as a smile creeps onto your lips as well. “Besides,” he drops his hands. “I’m sure my sister will be happy to have another girl around.”

You laugh at his statement, your anxieties slipping away for the moment, just as he had hoped. Klaus stands up from the log and offers you his hand. “How about it, love?”

You look from his smile to his hand and then back again. You bite your lip to try to contain your excitement. “Okay,” you say, and you take his hand.

* * * * *

Those who asked for a second part:

@marauders-luv @hyperactivewhore @elijahslittleprincess @bellarkeselection @vickymendes30 @susannahmikaelson

[rebelspykatie]

The Gift That Keeps on Giving - Part 2

AO3 | Part 1

minor TW: Cheating (you'll see)

Working out how to tell Eddie they can’t keep this up is harder than it seems. How does he say that he’s too close to falling for him and they should just go back to the beginning and make this a business transaction, or forget Steve even asked? Backing himself out of this corner isn’t easy. He types out so many messages and deletes them, his thumbs hurt. He finally sends something short and to the point. A quick ‘I can’t do this anymore, but thank you for everything.’ 

That’s met with radio silence. He checks the chat later to see that it’s been read, but there’s no response. No little ellipses bubble telling him a reply is forthcoming. No thumbs up or impersonal got it. Just nothing. He goes to their account and sees it’s still actively posting about the tour, so Eddie’s been on and had a chance to reply, but he hasn’t. Before Steve can let that sink in and ruin his day, there’s a knock on his door. 

There’s a courier there, an inconspicuous man that Steve frowns at. He isn’t expecting anything from his father, but he takes the envelope and signs for it. The contents surprise him. The small Stevie written at the top that he runs his fingers over in disbelief. He doesn’t remember telling Eddie his address. Maybe there are perks to having a legal team and record label behind you. It doesn’t really matter how he figured it out. Because out falls two tickets to the Corroded Coffin show in Indy. The show that’s just two days away. 

Eddie followed through on his promise. Steve thought he’d forgotten all about the reason they started talking. He certainly was flirting enough to make Steve forget. There’s the possibility that Steve was reading too much into it. Tone is hard to gauge over text. Eddie’s probably like this with everyone. Playing it up to maintain that rockstar image. It probably didn’t mean anything to him, while Steve’s insides were molten lava every time his phone pinged with a reply from Eddie.

It’s bittersweet to be holding these in his hands after everything that’s happened over the past few weeks. He got what he wanted, but at what cost? The realization that he doesn’t want his boyfriend. He wants Eddie Munson. Who he has no chance in hell with. Does he even deserve to take his boyfriend to this show? Eddie never should’ve sent the tickets after Steve lured him in and ghosted him with a quick message and no further explanation. He should probably tell his boyfriend the truth, hand over the tickets and admit what a failure this relationship has become because of him. All it took was a rockstar paying attention to him to make him stray, so how good of a boyfriend can he be, tickets or no tickets.

Turns out the distance between him and his boyfriend wasn’t one sided. When Steve walks in on him with another man that night, ready to confess and hand over the tickets, it should be more shocking, or at least more devastating. He’s all too aware that the anger he should feel is nonexistent. Steve’s been cheated on before and it’s never a pleasant feeling, but it feels hypocritical to get mad at him, given where Steve’s thoughts and feelings have been over the past few weeks.

Steve heads home with a weight off his chest. Lightest he’s felt since Robin pointed out his honeymoon eyes over Eddie’s messages. There’s not much love lost on this relationship, but he doesn’t know what to do with the tickets now that his boyfriend’s out of the picture. He doesn’t try reaching out to Eddie again, unsure how anything he’ll send would even be received. But he doesn’t want to just let them go to waste, not after everything. 

He winds up dragging Robin to the show. She’s not into this kind of music, and Steve wasn’t either, at first, but Eddie is electrifying when he performs and Steve was drawn in from that first music video and hasn’t stopped listening since. And Robin loves Steve. She’d do anything for him, and he’s never more thankful to have her at his side when he hands over the tickets and they’re ushered backstage. 

There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary on the tickets as far as Steve saw, but something must have tipped the system off that they weren’t run-of-the-mill tickets. Security guards escort them into a tunnel, where they get on a golf cart and get whisked away to an unknown destination. Robin’s whining under her breath that they shouldn’t have come and Steve’s having flashbacks to herding children through the back of the mall when he was slinging ice cream and getting bullied by Nancy's younger brother into free movies for him and his friends. 

The destination turns out to be a suite, or a dressing room of some sort. A door labeled Eddie Munson that sticks out amongst the white painted concrete they’re surrounded by. He’s not sure if they’re under the stage or behind it, but there’s a loud humming sound and bass reverberating in the cavernous hallway. He doesn’t get much time to process his surroundings before the security guard is rapping on the door with a curt Mr. Munson and stepping aside. 

When the door flings open, a man with intentionally windswept hair and tight leather pants greets them. By greets, he stares dumbly at them, slack jawed and eyes on Steve, like he can’t believe they’re real. Steve doesn’t know what to say anymore than it seems Eddie does, with his doe eyes and surprised tilt to his head. After a beat of silence that goes on too long, Robin clears her throat. 

“How drunk was I?” Eddie asks, brows furrowing as he takes in Robin. “I could’ve sworn you said boyfriend.” 

“Ex-boyfriend,” Robin chirps, grinning like a maniac. 

“Do you mean, you were a boy and now you’re a girl?” Eddie leans against the doorframe, perplexed, and Steve is distracted by the way his shirt rides up and reveals a sliver of pale skin to tease him. He can see a santa hat sticking out of the back pocket of his pants.

Robin gags at the thought of being Steve’s partner in anything other than crime. She points at herself, “Robin Buckley, always a girl,” then she points at Steve, “always a dingus,” and sticks out a hand for Eddie to shake. “Platonic lesbian best friend, at your service.” 

“Eddie Munson,” he says, shaking her hand but looking over at Steve, a bemused grin dancing on his lips. “What happened?” 

“You did,” Steve says, a little breathless.

Part 3

[cressidagrey]

You are the best thing that's ever been mine - Part 2

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: Sao Paulo 2024. The Dutchman delivered a defining drive…but maybe there is a relationship that could also use some defining. 

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, angst, crying, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation

Author Notes: Hi, hey, hello! Apparently I write F1 Fanfiction now?! Also this is the first time I am trying a social media au so my Canva Skills were put to the test. (Disclaimer: I kinda put legibility over authencity, so twitter doesn't look like twitter and messages looks like...something).

Also huge thanks to @onebigfangirlworld and @leodette for holding my hand with this 😘)

The checkered flag waved and GP was in his ear: "Wow. It’s been a long time coming, mate, but, boy, was that worth the wait. You are the man."

Max pulled in a slow breath. His heart was beating fast with the exhilaration of the race, with the thrill of victory. He had won. The first time since the Spanish Grand Prix. From P17 to P1.

"OOOH YES!! What an unbelievable race, guys! You know what that is? Simply lovely."

"Max, that was amazing. 17th to first. That was a world champion’s drive. You were absolutely a class of your own today, " came Christian's voice over the radio.

There was something in his tone of voice...something that scratched something at the edges of Max's brain.

"We had an...incident at the garage today," Christian said carefully. "I would like to start this with saying that Ariel is fine."

Max didn't like the sound of that. An "incident" at the garage? That didn't sound good. And he didn't like the way Christian's tone was all cautious, as if he was bracing for some kind of reaction.

He swallowed, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. "What happened?" he asked, his hands clenching around the steering wheel.

There was a pause, and Max could almost picture Christian gathering his thoughts. "Jos," Christian finally said. "He said some things, and he..." another pause. “He slapped her."

Max's mind blanked out.

He slapped her.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened so much it made his knuckles white. His heart was suddenly racing again, but not from the race. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, fueled by anger.

"What do you mean, he slapped her?" he asked through gritted teeth.

His father had done what?

"Exactly that," Christian replied, his voice firm. "He was yelling at her for no reason, and he slapped her. It was completely out of line, and it's absolutely unacceptable behavior. I've already dealt with him, sent him away. Max, I didn't tell you earlier because I knew it would only distract you in the race. I didn't want you to worry or get worked up."

He couldn’t talk. Couldn’t bring out the words. 

He remembered the commotion he had heard, the wordless screaming that had happened…he hadn’t been able to make out the words…but he could just about imagine how it must have…

And alone the thought of anybody, especially his own father, laying his hands on Ariel in anger…it was making him ready to go to prison for life for outright murder. 

Jos had put his hands on Ariel. 

On Ariel. 

Ariel. 

The best thing that had ever happened to him. The one person in his life that he knew was going to have his back in every single way every single day. The one person that had never backed down from his temper, that had never hesitated to call him an asshole… who had been there for him for years. 

Who knew him better than he even knew himself sometimes. It was…

It was infuriating. 

Ariel was his. Nobody got to lay his hands on her unless they wanted to deal with Max himself. 

"How is Ariel?" he bit out sharply.

"She's a bit rattled," Christian replied quickly, and Max could hear the hesitation in his voice. "A bit shaken up understandably, but she's okay. The medic checked her out. She's...she vomited afterwards." That sent a cold shard of worry down Max's spine.

She had already looked pale and green around the gills that morning but he hadn’t quite… Max hadn’t really thought that that was…anything but…

Ariel hated wet races, even when she had never outright said it. Max had thought that it was just her nerves and not that anything had been physically wrong with her… but then she had had seafood for dinner the evening before, maybe that hadn’t been a good choice…

But whatever it was,  Max couldn't help the image of her pale, shaky, and vomiting flashing through his mind.

"I'm coming now," he said firmly, his decision made in a heartbeat. "I’m coming to the garage right now."

"Max, you just won a race," Christian protested, his voice concerned. "You're supposed to be celebrating right now."

He didn't care. All he could think about was her. He had to see her, he had to make sure she was okay.

"I'm not celebrating anything until I see her," he retorted, his tone brooking no argument. He didn’t care what he was supposed to do. He needed to see her. He needed to see her now.  "Is she still with the medic?”

"No, she is taking a nap in your driver's room," Christian answered after a moment.

The news brought a wave of relief through Max. 

At least she was resting, and safe from Jos' reach.

"She's sleeping. She's fine. At least get weighed first, alright?" Christian pushed him. "I'll talk to the FIA, maybe we can sneak you out for a moment before the interviews start?"

To say that he was furious about it was an understatement.

Max had never been so angry in his whole damn life.

The anger was a living thing inside him, an inferno of righteous fury. How dare Jos confront her like that? How dare he put his hands on her? The very thought made him grind his teeth to the point that his jaw ached.

For the first time in his life...that win didn't matter to him. At all. 

The win...he had won. That would normally fill him with pride, with satisfaction and the adrenaline of accomplishment. 

But it meant nothing right now. 

No win in his life mattered if he was going to lose Ariel. 

Nothing mattered without Ariel. She was the only thing that mattered. 

Nothing compared to the thought of her being hurt, of her being at the receiving end of one of Jos' outbursts. 

Max could deal with his father’s poisonous words. His father could say whatever he wanted to him. But Jos hadn’t. 

Jos had spit his venom in the direction of the most important person in Max’s life. Had dared to put a hand on her. 

And that meant…that the fury that burned in Max’s gut was all-consuming, a fire in his veins that burned away everything else.

When he finally brought the car to the designated stop, he unclipped himself and climbed out...Normally a win after such a long drought...it would have made the Red Bull garage erupt.

This time the usual celebrations after a race were replaced by a somber mood. Everyone was there of course, congratulating him on the win, but the usual cheer and happiness were missing. Everybody's mind was still caught up in the events that had taken place during the race.

Christian was the first to greet him. He patted his back firmly. "Well done, mate," Christian said, his voice quiet. "It's been a long time coming. You deserve this one."

Somehow he mustered a thanks, even when the fury was still coiling deep within him. 

The need to be by Ariel’s side, to reassure himself that she was fine, was almost overwhelming.

And instead of doing just that, there was the media waiting for him. 

Of course there was. 

They were like vultures, circling the winning driver, waiting for their chance to ask questions and take pictures. Max hated them at that moment, hated every single soul of them. 

Max had never wanted to strangle the media more. His jaw was tight as he was bombarded with question after question about the incident in the garage.

“Have you heard about what happened?” 

“Do you know what it was about?”

"What was said?"

The questions were relentless, and he could feel his anger simmering just under the surface. It took every ounce of his control to keep himself from lashing out. "I just heard about the incident," he said, keeping his tone icily even. "I don't know anything yet. I'll talk to Ariel as soon as I am done here."

One of the reporters, a little more brazen than the others, piped up with a question. "There are rumours that Ms. Cane is...well...expecting. Is there any truth to that? And if yes, are you the father?"

The question stunned Max into a moment of silence. 

What was…What the actual fuck? 

It took him a moment to process the question, to comprehend what the reporter was insinuating. Pregnant? Ariel? With his baby? The very idea was...it was sending him into a tailspin.

Regardless of whatever everybody else had ever thought...there had never… nothing had ever happened between him and Ariel.

She was his best friend. The person he trusted most in the whole world and he quite simply adored her.

It wasn't that he didn't want her. 

He did. 

That had never been a question. From the very first time he had ever seen her...he had fallen a little bit in love right then and there, in late 2019...fallen in love with the blue eyed girl with the bright red hair that had smiled at him in that meeting room.

She had never once taken any of his bullshit. Had never once backed down from any challenge he issued… had met him head on, her shoulder squared.

Ariel had grown too important too quickly for him. He was utterly terrified of fucking it up. Of losing her. What if she didn’t return his feelings? What if she did and then they ended up divorced down the line and hating each other?

At least like this… he could have her as his best friend. That would need to be enough. 

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close to enough. 

But to be asked that question...to be asked if she was carrying his child...it was like pouring gasoline into an open fire. It just made the possessiveness well up inside him like a tidal wave. 

He wanted to snap. He wanted not to answer at all. He wanted to tell the media to fuck off and leave him the hell alone. He wanted to answer that question by giving the reporter a bloody nose. 

"That's a very personal question," he said, his eyes cold. "The answer is no. To both questions.”

Another reporter, not satisfied with that answer, piped up. "There have been rumors though," he started. "About a possible relationship-"

“My personal life is not up for discussion,” he cut him off sharply. "Ariel Cane is the best thing that has ever happened to me. She has been my best friend for the last 5 years and a vital part of our team. Ariel is..." he trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase it. How to express the enormity of what she meant to him. And when he finally spoke, he was surprised at how easily the words came. "She's incredibly important to me. Ariel is a remarkable woman, who I respect immensely. And a day doesn't pass, where I don't appreciate having her in my life," he continued.  He had to defend her, to make it clear that what was between them was not what the media liked to portray it as. 

The reporters looked a little stunned at the outburst. The room fell silent, everyone digesting his words. Max didn't care.

 He had said what he needed to say, and had set the record straight. The last thing he wanted was for her to be dragged down because of him.

Someone finally broke the silence. "What about your father?" another reporter asked carefully. "Will you talk with him?"

The mere mention of his father brought the anger back into the forefront of his mind. He ground his teeth, his hands clenched into fists. Max felt the anger flare up inside him again, hotter than before.

“I will. He won’t like what I have to say,” he snapped. 

"Don't you think that your father may have had a reason for slapping her?" one reporter piped up.

"No," Max's answer was sharp and immediate. "There is absolutely nothing that would justify what he did. And if my father ever dares to even think about getting close to her again, I will make his life an absolute living hell," he said, his voice quiet but deadly.

The reporter looked like he wanted to press the point, like he wanted to dig further. But Max was done answering questions now.

"That's enough," he said firmly, his voice brooking no further argument. "Now I would like to go and see my friend and beg for her forgiveness."

He didn't wait for a response, the need to see her taking over every other thought.

He didn't fucking care anymore. If the FIA wanted to fine him, they could do that. He had more money than he knew what to do with after all.

He turned away from the reporters, ignoring the last of their shouted questions, and made a beeline for the Red Bull Garage. He didn't stop, didn't slow down even when Team Officials tried to talk to him.

All he cared about was getting to her. Getting to her and making sure she was okay.

Next Part

[nathaslosthershit]

Unremarkable (LN4)

(Part 2 of the Blind Items series)

Summary: Blind Items returns again to ruin yet another happy couple's peace. This time, Lando Norris and his ‘unremarkable’ girlfriend.

“Lando, have you seen this?” his girlfriend asked, showing him the tweets. When they had soft launched, she got a small dose of what it would be like to be the WAG of Lando Norris. But even when they hadn’t known anything about her, some people still had been so mean. Now that they knew she had a ‘commoner’ job, they had started tearing her to shreds. ‘How could someone so rich and famous go for such a plain girl’ was what so many people had said. 

“Oscar showed it to me today. I am so sorry, honey, I was hoping that you wouldn’t have seen it. Those people are absolute asses, love.” He probably should have said something earlier but he knew how hard she would take it. While she had joked in the past about the differences in their jobs, especially the pay, he knew she felt insecure about it at times. 

“The thing is, I didn’t see it. Not at first. I only saw it when I heard one of my students talking about it in class today. Can you even imagine how humiliating that was for me? Hearing my own students who I have done nothing but be kind and understanding to, trying to get them to love learning, talk about how awful it is their favorite driver is dating someone as boring as a teacher.” She couldn’t stop the tears as she went on about the situation. He wouldn’t understand, he couldn’t. She knew Lando had his moments of insecurity but nothing like this. At the end of the day, he still had hundreds upon thousands of fans who loved him immensely. 

Even if he couldn’t fully understand, it still broke his heart seeing how much it hurt her. Sure, he hadn’t ever thought he would date a school teacher either, but that was mostly due to his previous lack of appreciation for school. But being with her has changed that. His girlfriend could always make things interesting. She loved to spout history facts on vacation and it always made him so deliriously happy to see how giddy she was to learn new things. 

Seeing her now though, so visibly upset made him realize this wasn’t something that could slide easily. His PR team might not love it but he wasn’t going to just sit there and let her feel terrible about herself.

“I’ll fix this, I promise.” He said quickly as he left. He shouldn’t have left her alone and crying, but he was fuming and decided he needed that anger to let his message out. 

landonorris

Liked by oscarpiastri and 153,137 others

landonorris I don’t know who this gossip page thinks they are but the last thing I will tolerate is someone hiding behind a screen telling the entire world that my girlfriend, who I love more than life itself, is ‘dull’ and ‘unremarkable’ because of her job. This is a woman who is smarter than 99% of the people I have ever interacted with, someone who spends so much of their time trying, and succeeding, to get kids to love learning. Even as someone who didn’t appreciate school as much as they should have, I would never have once thought school teachers were any of the negative things you have said. Luckily, here I am, happy with my amazing girlfriend who deserves the entire world, and I know I will spend the rest of my life trying to give it to her. 

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A few minutes later she came into the room, tears still staining her cheeks.

“Thank you Lando” she said as he motioned for her to sit on his lap. 

“I can say more if you want? I definitely think I could have cursed them out mor-” He was cut off with a kiss. The sheer force of it caused them to bump heads a little, which then caused them to break apart giggling. “I’m serious about what I said. I don’t know what I did to get someone as wonderful as you but I am not going to let some assholes on the internet make you upset over something so incredible. You should be proud of what you do and I will forever work to remind you of how amazing you are.”

“I love you, Lando” was all she replied.

“I love you more”

“Please can we not play this game you know I love-”

“Nope, la-la-la-la I can’t hear you over the sound of me loving you soooo much” He said as he covered his ears.

Such a dork, she thought.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Poly marauders where it’s like there teen daughter gets into a fight and like smokes and stuff and like conversations and text trying to figure out what’s going on and telling each other what’s happening and like her yelling at them and finding out she’s been hanging around the wrong kind of people and she’s been stealing and just like good angst but then she says sorry walks away and slowly stops but like still ofc and teen girl 💕💕

𝟷.𝟹𝚔 || 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Your teen daughter was hanging out with wrong kind of people, causing all of you to confront her.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x mom!Reader

"She's stealing, James. STEALING." Sirius’s voice came through the phone, low and angry. You could hear it even though James had stepped into the kitchen to take the call. Your heart clenched, dread coiling tightly in your chest.

You glanced at Remus, who was sitting on the couch, his brow furrowed as he typed furiously into his phone, likely messaging Peter. It had been a few tense days now. First, your daughter had gotten into a fight at school. Then came the smoking. And now…you were learning about the stealing.

James walked back into the living room, running a hand through his hair. His usually calm demeanor was shattered, his hazel eyes full of worry. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Sirius’s voice on speakerphone, growling, “This is bloody ridiculous. Who’s she been hanging out with? How did we not know?”

You winced. “She’s not a bad kid,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. “We must’ve missed something, right? Maybe if I had—”

“Don’t,” Remus cut in gently, finally looking up from his phone. His eyes softened as he reached for your hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”

But the guilt gnawed at you anyway. You were her mother. You were supposed to protect her, guide her, and yet here you all were, blindsided by her sudden spiral.

The front door slammed, jolting you out of your thoughts. There she was, your daughter, stomping into the room with an air of defiance.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” James started, his voice steady but filled with concern.

“No, we don’t,” she snapped. “I’m not a child. You don’t get to control my life!”

Sirius, who had hung up and now stormed in after her, looked livid. “You’re stealing now?” His voice was tight with fury, and you saw James reach out, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him from escalating. “We didn’t raise you to act like this. What the hell is going on?”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you actually paid attention to what I want, instead of what you want me to be, I wouldn’t have to sneak around!”

Remus took a deep breath, stepping in. “Who have you been hanging out with, darling?”

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw the scared girl beneath the rebellious facade. “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “I’ve got my own life, alright? You guys don’t get it.”

Peter, who had just arrived, slipped in quietly, standing by the door. He had always been the quiet one in confrontations like these, but his eyes were filled with worry. “We do get it,” he said softly. “We’ve been your age. But hanging out with people who are getting you into fights, into trouble…it’s not the way.”

Her lip trembled, and for a second, it seemed like she was going to break. But then she just shook her head and stormed toward her room, slamming the door behind her.

The silence that followed was suffocating. You sat down hard on the couch, burying your face in your hands. “I failed her,” you choked out, your voice thick with tears. “I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it.”

Sirius’s anger faltered, and he knelt down in front of you. “Hey, no. None of this is your fault.”

James crouched beside you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “You’re a great mom,” he whispered into your hair. “She’s just…lost right now.”

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But what if we lose her, James? What if we're not enough?”

Remus was there in an instant, sitting beside you, pulling you close. “We won’t lose her,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? We’ve always got each other.”

Peter nodded from the side. “She’s tough, just like you. She’ll come around.”

Sirius, who had always been the most protective, clenched his fists, still simmering with frustration but trying his best to soften for your sake. “I just don’t want her getting hurt,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “I don’t want her to turn into someone we don’t recognize.”

James kissed his temple, his voice gentle but firm. “She won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”

Over the next few days, things were tense, but slowly, you began to see changes. She came home earlier, didn’t pick as many fights. It wasn’t a complete transformation—far from it—but there were glimmers of hope. She even sat down with you once, just to watch TV. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

One evening, she came up to you while the boys were scattered around the house. “Mom?” she asked, her voice quiet.

You looked up, your heart in your throat. “Yes, sweetie?”

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were filled with genuine remorse. “I…I messed up. I’m still mad, but I know I messed up.”

You pulled her into your arms, tears welling in your eyes again, but this time from relief. “I love you,” you whispered, kissing the top of her head. “No matter what, I love you.”

She nodded, hugging you tightly before stepping back. “I’m gonna try…to do better.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

hope this is what you were going for! also i wasn't sure if you wanted reader insert, so i twisted it up a bit

[urprettylittlething]

What happens when Cursed Kitty starts bugging Gojo and Gets to let her leave outside? Do they punish her or do they just give in?

-🥟

Thank you so much for this request, I'm sorry it’s taken so long for me to get to it but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :’) I tried my best with writing this <33

The Lesson For Never Leaving

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Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - I am so so happy to be back, I really hope you all enjoy the content that's to come, and a massive thank you to everyone that's sent in an ask, you've all been so patient with me I love you all so much <333 The poll has voted that these be posted daily so that is what I will be doing :3 Feel free to leave comments either on the post or my inbox, it's really motivating to hear people loving my work <333 I love you all thank you so much <3 and please let me know if I've missed any warnings or spellings, etc. :)

summary - Frustrated and brushed aside, all Kitty wanted to do was go outside.

warnings - Yandere-ness from both of our boys, Spanking, Kitty gets held down, Crying, Kind of harsh, Kitty doesn't really understand what's going on :(, Kinda bratty but she's frustrated and doesn't know how to convey that well, punishment

genre - Oneshot

word count - 1.4k

~spelling and grammar checked~

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The very first time Kitty asks, the both of them would try and distract her instead. Never really answering her question and trying to occupy her with other things in the hopes that she’ll forget about it. 

The next few times when she asks, she bugs them with whiney tugs on their shirts with mumbles of “Outside?”, all wide eyed and pouty lips. They just end up sighing and telling her something along the lines of, “No, you can’t go outside baby. Do you know how dangerous it is out there?” 

And that works for a little while, but the next time she asks and they tell her no, she gets even more pouty, her brows furrowing before she tries asking again. So in return they get just a little bit firmer with their ‘no’s’ and she droops away while sulking.

So when the next time she asks, doing it with a very firm “Outside!” followed along by a stamp with her little foot, they don’t just tell her ‘no’ anymore. Her harshly furrowed brows and downturned lips gently ease themselves from the angered look and instead start to merge into one of vague terror. Suguru and Satoru have taken it upon themselves to start telling her the ‘tales of horror’ they’ve encountered and witnessed from being outside for too long. 

Making sure to add what would happen to a ‘pretty little innocent kitty’ like herself, getting snatched up and stolen away forever.

All of those stories are enough to scare her away for a good few weeks after the two of them got detailed enough to get her lips wobbling and eyes all blurry with tears while her ears drooped and her tail curled in on itself. They told her it was a bad idea, what they’ve been saying all along and how they wished they didn’t need to tell her this much to get her to listen. Doing it all with exaggerated voices so she’d feel guilty enough that she didn’t listen to them in the first place. Opening up their arms to her while she dived into them, mumbling small ‘sorry’s and ‘I stay’s.

So the next time she asks, they decide that it’s time they should lay it on a little heavier if they really want to get the message through to her about never leaving. It also didn’t help that her attitude for asking has gotten more demanding than anything else.

She’s stubborn when they tell her ‘no’ this time. Stamping her foot repeatedly while nearly shouting “Outside!!”. They try doing their little manipulating tactic again, trying the story about the big bad dangers of going outside but she’s hearing none of it. Cutting off their gentle, if not a little strained, voices with a stern “No!” and just repeating what she had previously been saying.

So the two men share a look. Silent conversation being exchanged between just the two of them while Kitty looks on in confusion and frustration. One of them raises his eyebrow and the other shakes his head, looking a little dejected all the while. 

Of course seeing this from the side-lines and not following along with their little private chat at all, Kitty is taking this as another no. 

Her body is shaking and her tail is puffing up in distress because they’re not listening to her and now they’re ignoring her! 

Her eyes welled up with frustrated tears and a few dribbled down her cheeks, her fists clenched at her sides as she all but yelled, “Hate you!”. The two opposite her froze in shock while she continued her spiel. “Hate! Want outside! I hate!” 

They’re stunned into silence, frozen in disbelief and almost outraged because how dare she. All they are doing is trying to keep her safe, they take care of her, feed her, bathe her, love her. And she hates them? 

Their eyes become almost lax, losing the little spark of light that one would normally see. Overcast and dark is how they’re portrayed. Knuckles white and strained from where they’re clutching at different parts of the kitchen counter, where they’d all been during this entire exchange. 

Kitty begins losing her flare little by little until it's practically erased like it had never existed in the first place. Except it had, because the two in front of her are the direct result of her harsh words. And they’re scaring her. Brooding and menacing and she’s shaking where she stands. Tail drooping and curling around her lower leg, ears flattened and eyes big and rounded. Tears no longer falling but instead are caught up in her lashes.

It’s only when one murmurs something along the lines of a punishment, the other agreeing, does she try to turn tail and run. But Satoru had already caught her before she even really began running. He half drags, half carries her down the hall and to their main bedroom. Setting her down face first into the fluffed up sheets, sitting down next to her while keeping her arms restrained snug behind her back. 

Her tail had curled around her waist during the travel and her ears remained flat against her head, small whimpers and the occasional ruffle of fabric as she shifted around were all to be heard in the room. Satoru remains silent by her side, Suguru’s socked feet thudding delicately along the floor as one of her ears twitches slightly in reaction. 

A small whimper is all that's heard when Suguru comes to a stop behind her, flipping up the long baggy shirt Satoru had put on her this morning, revealing her pastel pink lace panties. One of the things they had decided when dressing her for the first time was forgoing any bottoms, they would just be an inconvenience anyway.

It’s when both of them start to speak, one after the other, words of how “This is your punishment.”, “You’re going to learn how to speak nicely.”, “You’ve been a bad kitty.” that makes her bottom lip tremble. Tears welling up in her pretty glazed eyes.

It’s the first hard smack against her pink panty clad cheek that causes her to wail. Big salty tears finally spilled over her waterline and down her cheeks. She starts to squirm when they don’t stop. Harsher and harsher they get. She knows it’s Suguru doing it because Satoru is the one that’s holding her down.

In all honesty she’s struggling to make out what is truly happening. The pain is spreading over each cheek the more Suguru spanks her as she wails and cries. 

A few harsh spanks later and the worst one comes next, a loud cracking smack right over a tender spot on her ass cheek and she shrieks. Openly sobbing and blubbering. She’s wounded and confused, scared and wanting comfort.

This is where Satoru speaks up, curled around her upper half to stop her from escaping her torment. 

He’s saying something along the lines of ‘only trying to help her understand, “we just don’t want to see you get hurt”, “how many curse users and sorcerers would slaughter her without a second thought”. 

All of this combined just makes her sob even harder. Each stuttering inhale and choked out wail, drowning in the mess her face is in of snot and drool and tears. Every smack hurts and every word is less and less comforting. She doesn’t like this. She hates this.

Sobbing and trembling, ears flattened atop her head in her distress while her tail is curled so tight around her waist the muscles strain. 

Suguru delivers the last few slaps against her bruised and blushing red ass before he stops. The only thing heard in the room is the heavy breathing behind Kitty, her crying and Gojo's words of ‘comfort’. 

Eventually after a few minutes to gather their composure they roll Kitty over. Yes, it does hurt them a little to see her cower away from both of them, trying to curl into herself and hide while she sobs from everything inflicted on her these past minutes. 

It’s Suguru that picks her up gently, Satoru leaving to start a hot bath in the other room while Suguru stays on the bed with Kitty. Nestling her into his chest, too exhausted to resist, she buries herself into the side of his neck. Making sure to keep her rear end from touching anything, he stays with her. Kneading her curled in ears gently and making small shushing noises.

Rocking her gently side to side as one hand trails delicate patterns up and down her back. He waits for Gojo to finish the bath, so they can both give Kitty the comfort she deserves. All while reminding her this is what happens when she fights back. And how a lot worse would befall her should she ever dare leave. 

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[trippinsorrows]

with me + part eighteen

authors notes: two updates back to back! i felt a lil bad for leaving ya'll on a cliffhanger of sorts. granted, this one kinda does too but....not in a bad way. more of a plot twist, than anything.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 7k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @southerngirl41 @wanderingreigns @romanreignsbae

24 hours.

It’s been 24 hours of absolute chaos and madness.

24 hours of a rush of conflicting and yet corresponding emotions. Anger. Confusion. Sadness.

In the past 24hrs, your love and basically life story have gone from being known to a select few to now being trending topics on every social media platform. Your Instagram, which was already private, had literally hundreds of follow requests the last time you checked it. There are emails in your inbox from several news platforms requesting interviews and offering exclusives. 

Hell, a couple of people even reached out to you on your LinkedIn.

It’s all so extremely overwhelming and chaotic, so much so that you had to force Alexis to leave and find some way to calm herself down. Her furious energy, while valid as hell, wasn’t helping. And it's not that you don't get it.

You do. God, you do.

You’d like nothing more than to take a steel chair to Mariah’s head, for you and Alexis to do a beatdown part two since the first one seemingly didn’t send a strong enough message.

But, you can’t. And she can’t either.

The whole world now has eyes on you, now is waiting to see what else comes out of this story that isn’t a story for you.

It’s your fucking life.

“We’re definitely looking into our options here, and there are some routes we can take, but without anything from her specifically saying she was going to do anything—”

“Wait.” It’s the first thing you’ve said in this emergency meeting with Joe and his legal team, a couple of intrigued eyes falling on you. “That’s—that’s not exactly true.”

Joe, as you expected, is the first to speak. “What are you talking about?”

This….this is the last conversation you expected to be having right now. The last thing you thought you’d be doing right now. You should be continuing to prepare for the move, decorating the house, planning how you’re going to tell Joe about your pregnancy.

Instead, you’re sitting in your new kitchen surrounded by lawyers, men in suits, and the man you love who you now have to admit to lying over something, at the time, you thought was nothing.

But that nothing has turned into a nightmare that has not only your personal life being used as media fodder but pictures of your sweet, beautiful, four-year-old daughter circulating the internet, just waiting to fall into the hands of the depraved.

That…..that’s what kills you the most.

It’s not even the “tell all” interview you only managed to watch for 10 minutes before having to turn it off. Even staring at her caked face, most likely to hide the lingering bruises from Alexis beating, makes you mad. Almost as mad at the absolute way she’s taken your and Joe’s story and dramatized it to the point of delusions.

Saying you plotted on Joe from the beginning. That you intentionally got pregnant by him. That you were sleeping with multiple men, meaning there’s a chance he could not be the father. That Joe’s ex-wife called and cussed you out, threatening to beat your ass. That you make Joe give you an allowance.

Just lies. Pure, unadulterated lies that make you sick to your stomach.

This whole thing feels like a never ending cycle of nightmares.

“Y/N?” One of the suits saying your name brings you back to this space, this place of here and now where another lie, one of your own making, is about to be revealed.

Licking your lips, you try to explain it as best you can, though there is no good way to come out and admit you weren’t honest with him. “She—she’d been sending me messages.”

“Messages?” Joe’s interruption is fair and expected, but one of his lawyers jumps in before he can continue. 

“Do you still have them?”

Nodding, you pull out your phone, opening Mariah’s thread. You’d blocked and deleted her contact from your phone so it’s just her number as the title for the thread. Reaching the phone to the lawyer, it’s quickly intercepted by Joe.

Just watching his eyes read over the messages, you can almost see his anger growing. He hands the phone over to his lawyer, and you watch as one exchanges the phone with the other.

“This is perfect,” one of the suits shares to the group. “We can definitely slap her with a couple different lawsuits with this evidence. I’m thinking extortion. Most definitely a cease and desist.”

“Defamation too,” someone else chimes. 

Joe isn’t interested in any of that at this moment. He just wants to speak with you alone, that much is painfully obvious. “Can you give us a minute?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just stands up from his seat, motioning for you to follow him.

Nervous about what’s about to ensue, you do so regardless, following him up the stairs and into the first room on the right. 

You start to plead your case as soon as the door is closed. “Joe—”

“You lied to me.”

His tone kills you. You haven’t been on the receiving end of this side of him in months, not since he first found out about Callie. “I—”

“I fucking asked you did she say anything, and you lied to me, Y/N!”

“I didn’t think anything of it, Joe.” You can’t and won’t necessarily defend the lying part, but you will attempt to help him understand your logic that was at play. “Mariah—she’d never done anything remotely close to any of this to make me think she would ever do something like this. I thought—I thought she was just saying shit to get a reaction out of me.”

He stops his pacing, looking at you with a sense of incredulity. “I didn’t ask you what kind of shit she was saying, I asked you if she said anything at all, and you stood there and you lied to me with a straight face!”

“I’m sorry, okay!” There’s a solid attempt to keep your volume down, well aware Callie is only a few rooms down playing, oblivious to all of this chaos unfolding. “But I was in a really bad place during that time, Joe, okay? I—I didn’t care about….lawyers and lawsuits, I just wanted custody of my child back.” Eyes starting to water, you shake your head, asking, “do you have any idea how hard that was for me?”

“Of course, I know, Y/N.” His tone is a little more calm, still angry though. “I was going through the same damn thing.”

“No, you weren’t!” As much as you want to control your emotions in this moment, control your temper, it’s hard when he’s clearly not trying to hear where you were coming from. “You got to see her! You got to speak to her! I didn’t! Mariah didn’t accuse you of awful shit, it was just me!”

“So you don’t think that shit impacted me at all?” His voice still carries anger, but there’s specks of hurt there. You feel bad, you didn’t mean to invalidate him, just wanted to help him see there was a difference. “Seeing you like that? Seeing Callie like that?”

Pressing your hands against your temple, you shut your eyes, explaining, “that’s not what I’m saying, Joe. You’re not listening to me.” 

“You’re right.” His agreement takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect him to be so self-aware. “I’m not listening cuz’ I’m fucking pissed off with you that this all could have been avoided if you had just been honest with me. Our daughter’s photos wouldn’t be all over the fucking internet if you had just told me the truth.”

It’s not hard for you to read between the lines of what he’s saying. But, it is hard for you to stomach what he’s saying. “You blame me for this, don’t you?” And it’s when he looks away, nostrils flared and jaw clenched. “You do….”

“I didn’t for the DCFS situation, because that was absolutely beyond your control. But this…..” He looks up at the ceiling, eyes closed, most likely trying to maintain composure. “I’m gonna go over to Jey and Kaylah’s place for a little bit. I just need to clear my head.”

Your throat constricts. Joe has never been the one to leave in the middle of an argument. He’s that one to always say we’re gonna stay here and figure this out together, so you don’t know what to make of him wanting to leave. 

“Joe, please….” Walking over to him, you place your hands on his chest, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t go, okay? We just—we need to work this out right now.”

“I love you, Y/N. I love you too much to stay here and have this out with you right now, because there’s not many nice things I have to say.” 

There’s a shred of hope that fills you in the way he cups your cheek, staring at you for a minute before he turns to walk out of the door. But the hope is easily dashed at the fact that he still chooses to walk out the door. 

Sniffling, feeling the tears oncoming, you walk out after him only to see he’s already completely descended down the stairs, already out the house most likely. Standing there, you try to keep the tears at bay, try to keep your shit together.

“Mommy….”

“What, Callie!” The second it leaves your voice, the harshness, the volume, the cruelness, you want to melt into the ground. Callie, understandably, looks devastated at you snapping at her. And you feel it too. “Baby, I’m—I’m so sorry—”

She doesn’t give you a chance to grovel because she turns on the heel of her shoes and darts back into her room, slamming the door behind her. 

Your chest tightening, the tears starting to fall. It hits you so hard.

You really fucked up. 

—-------

“You ready to talk yet?”

Joe knew the second he walked into his cousin’s house, grabbed a beer out the fridge and plopped himself on the steps of their back porch that he didn’t come over here to vent. He just needed to get away, to clear and sort through his head so he didn’t end up saying anything worse than what he’s already said to Y/N.

And Kaylah recognized as such. Recognized something must have happened, which is why she allowed him his privacy for the time being.

“Not really,” he answers, finishing off his beer and tossing it to his side.

“Too bad,” Kaylah dismisses. It’s not a major surprise. “Cause I am.” Joe says nothing as she slides down on the step, sitting beside him. When he still says nothing, “what happened, Joe?”

Joe chuckles bitterly. “Check the news. Any of them.”

Kaylah frowns. “You know that’s not what I mean.” She’s very well aware of that part of this shitshow. “What happened with you and Y/N?”

“She lied to me, Kay.” Joe really doesn’t want to talk about this, but he knows he needs to. Knows he eventually has to go back home and face the music. “I had asked her if Mariah had said anything, not even anything bad, just anything in general. She told me no, but that wasn’t the truth, Mariah was sending all kinds of messages alluding to doing something if Y/N didn’t answer her…..now look at what’s happened.” 

Kaylah takes a second to digest what he’s saying. “When did you ask her?”

“When the whole DCFS situation happened. My lawyers were trying to see if we could build some type of case against Mariah.”

Kaylah is smart, always has been, so it’s not difficult for her to put the pieces together. “And you think if she had provided these messages, you could have done something to avoid this latest shitshow?” Joe doesn’t have to answer her question. She already knows his answer. “That’s a big if, Joe, and you know it.”

“Of course, I know it. It’s just…….fuck.” He shuts his eyes, head titled back. “It’s like shit just keeps happening.”

“It’s rough, I can imagine that, but it’s not just rough for you. Y/N is going through the same thing, and instead of sitting here in your misery, blaming her, you two should be handling it together.” Kaylah lifts her finger to silence him when he goes to either agree or protest. “I’m not saying she wasn’t wrong for not telling you the truth, but Joe, we both know that if she had even an inkling that Mariah would do something like this, she would have told you in a heartbeat.” Her voice softens. “She made a mistake.”

“And I know Mariah has put your business out there too now, and I don’t mean to make it seem like this doesn’t impact you as well, but Y/N is the one being dragged to filth on the internet right now. I sincerely hope she hasn’t read some of the stuff being said about her. It’s awful. Mariah lied about so many things and has made Y/N out to be this horrible person when she’s not.”

Joe thinks that’s the part that pisses him off the most, that made him so angry he unintentionally took that anger out on the person being affected the most in this situation. He watched the entire interview Mariah did, heard the way she took parts of the truth and piled a shit ton of lies on top. 

Heard how actually had the fucking audacity to drag Jadah into it, claiming she had texts and recorded phone calls between the two of them talking about how Y/N was a whore and broke up her marriage. All kind of just lies.

And he knows it’s not true, because he knows Jadah. Hell, he spoke to Jadah just this morning. 

It infuriated him even more to read some of the comments, people speaking so cruelly about the woman he loves. Even going as far to drag Callie into the cesspool of bullying. 

A man who doesn’t like not having control, it tears him up to not be able to do anything to dead the shit immediately. 

But…..there are some things he can do, and he can’t do them if he’s sitting here in his feelings.

Joe looks over at Kaylah, gently shoving into her side. “Thank you, Kay.”

“Anytime.” And she means it. Joe is like a brother to her. Always has been. “Now you’ve got twenty minutes to get your sorry ass off my porch and back to your house to take care of business. Cause I know you, Joe. You don’t play about your family. Let that bitch know she’s fucked with the wrong one.”

—-------

“Mama, I really messed up.”

Crying over the phone to your mom at your big age definitely wasn’t in your bingo card for 2024, yet here you are.

Granted, most of what’s happened this year wasn’t in your bingo card anyway, so it lines up.

“Oh, honey. You made a mistake, You’re human. It happens.” Your mom’s voice is soothing on the other side of the phone. “And don’t worry about Joseph. He’s just upset right now. He’ll calm down.”

“He’s right to be upset. I shouldn’t have lied to him.” Sniffling and wiping at your eyes, you bring your legs to your chest. “And look at what my mistake has caused mama. My baby’s face is all over the internet. Personal photos just material for people to make posts and tweets and TikTok’s about.”

It makes you sick to your stomach to think of how low Mariah has gotten in this whole situation. All of those snaps you shared with her of your daughter, precious moments you thought you were sharing with your best friend, she’d sold to whoever would buy them for 15 minutes of fame and a slice of short-lived relevancy.

“None of us knew that girl is as unhinged as she is. You’re not psychic, baby. You had no way of knowing this would happen, and Joseph knows that. He just let his pride get the best of him and took out his frustrations on you, which, make no mistake, is not right. And you definitely need to check him on that.” Your mom briefly switching gears brings a smile and small laugh to your face. “You know I didn’t raise you to take shit from no man, and that includes him.”

“I know….” And you will address it with him, even if deep down something tells you he already feels bad for how he spoke to you, knowing it was wrong. “I just—-I feel like we can’t catch a break. It sometimes makes me wonder if…..if I’m doing the right thing.” The past 24 hours have caused you to experience such a whirlwind of emotions, emotions you’re sure are exacerbated by a pregnancy no one knows about yet. “I would never stop Joe from being in Callie’s life, but if me being with him causes all this mess for him and her then….”

“Don’t do that. Don’t you dare do that.” Your mom’s interjection is fierce and sharp. “That boy loves you. He’d do anything for you and baby girl. Don’t let Mariah trick you into thinking that somehow you being happy with the man you love and father of your child is somehow wrong. Don’t let her win.”

Blowing out a breath, you try to heed to your mom’s guidance. She’s right. You know she’s right. Mariah being psychotic doesn’t change shit about your love for Joe, his love for you, the way he’d do anything for ya’ll and vice versa.

Mariah is just jealous. Dissolving what is otherwise a happy family would bring her nothing but great satisfaction. And over your dead body will you let that bitch get what she wants.

“You’re right.” Shaking your head, you try to counter all of your negative and anxious thoughts with more optimism and logic. “It’s just….it’s hard right now.”

“And it will be for a little while, but that’s when you lean on the people you love, and baby, you got no shortage of that.”

Sniffling, tears drying, you thank her, “thank you, mama.”

“Just let me know if you need me to fly down there.” And you know she will. Know Joe won’t hesitate to pay for a plane ticket for her to come stay with you.

And after you tell him about your pregnancy, you might do just that.

“I will,” you promise, telling her you’ll call or text her later to let her know how everything pans out before ending the call.

Stepping back into the kitchen and sliding the door closed, locking it, the last thing you expect to see is Joe standing in the kitchen.

Gasping, hand over your chest, your shoulders slump as you murmur, “you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s a layered statement, multiple meanings and several different applications. A knowledge that comes from being with and knowing this man for all these years. 

Walking over to him, you cross your arms over one another. “I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

He shakes his head. “Didn’t give me an excuse to talk to you the way I did or to say the things I did.” And as strange a thought it may be to have in this moment, this is one of the many reasons you love the man before you. Joe is mature and man enough to both admit when he’s fucked up and is always intentional about making it right.

Swallowing, you advise, “this is just a really fucked up situation that neither of us really knows how to process.” Ain’t that the fucking truth. “But, we can handle it…together.”

He gently pulls you into his chest and your eyes shut as he holds you, apologizing into the top of your head.

“I’m sorry too.” you apologize, hand on his chest. “I know that situation was difficult for you too, and I shouldn’t have invalidated your feelings.”

“Neither of us was 100% right.” And he’s correct. He was wrong for lashing out the way he did, and you were wrong for not being honest and invalidating his experience. 

Neither of you could pull the ‘right’ card.

“Agreed.” You murmur, eyes softening as you switch topics a bit. “Callie….I accidentally snapped at her after you left.” The guilt still eats at you for that, for taking out your emotions on your sweet little girl. “I spoke with her and apologized, but….I think she heard us fighting.”

That really kills you. You don’t think it’s entirely unhealthy for kids to hear their parents go at it from time to time, but not at 4. And not for a sensitive child like Callie.

Joe looks equally upset at this, offering, “let me talk to her. If she heard us, she needs to know that me yelling at you wasn’t okay.”

There’s no disagreement nor protest as he heads up the stairs to find Callie.

Joe stands outside Callie’s door with a knock that’s followed by her head snapping up and smile brightening. “Daddy!” She rushes over to him, Joe leaning to pick her up, holding her. “You came back!”

Her words crush him, the idea that she could even think he could ever leave her, leave either of them.

“Of course, baby girl.” Joe moves to the only adult sized chair in her room, holding her on his lap, caressing her cheek. “Callie, I know you heard me and your mom arguing, but I need you to know that I will never leave you or mommy. Daddy was just….very upset, and I took it out on your mom which was wrong.”

In a soft voice, she asks, “did mommy do something bad?”

“No, she just….made a mistake, and that’s okay, because we all make mistakes, but it wasn’t okay for me to yell at her like that.” Joe decides to take this unfortunate occurrence and make it a learning lesson for his daughter. “You never let any lil’ boy yell at you or talk mean to you, you hear me?” Callie nods her head, as he adds. “And if he does, let me know, and I’ll take care of it.”

Callie turns up her nose. “Boys are gross.” She then adds, “cept' you, daddy.”

Joe laughs but quickly agrees. Let her think that as long as she wants. Forever, preferably. He tugs her a bit closer, holding her snug to him. “That’s right. All of em’. Every single one.” 

—-------

Given only a few rooms in the house are fully furnished, the three of you sleep and stay at Joe’s place at night given he doesn’t plan to sell it until you’re all completely moved in. Not feeling like cooking, or rather not feeling like helping Joe cook, you decide on takeout.

Subsequently, ya'll share dinner while watching Finding Nemo 2, the chosen movie of the night by Callie.

There’s extra measures on your end to make sure she’s really forgiven you, needing her to know that you’re truly apologetic, and of course, your inherently kind child shows absolutely no sign that she holds any type of grudge against you.

You couldn’t be any more grateful for her wonderfully big heart.

You handle getting her to bed, seeing that Joe is tired. It’s something you noticed the minute he arrived at the new house from the airport. He looks exhausted. How can he not be? Preparing for WrestleMania, training nonstop, finishing up his documentary, and now this?

A person can only take so much.

You’re actually happy he’ll have a week off post WrestleMania. He needs that. He needs time to just rest.

It doesn’t surprise you that he falls asleep in a matter of minutes, big body laid out over yours as you gently caress his naked back. His heavy shoulders lifting in alignment with his breathing is a soothing source you zone in on while scrolling aimlessly on your phone. Pinterest only. You can’t allow yourself to check out anything else.

That is until you receive a text from Alexis telling you to check Joe’s Instagram. 

For a second, you consider ignoring it, but curiosity gets the best of you.

Logging back into the app, you go straight to his profile, gasping when you see the latest post on the grid. 

It’s a photo of the three of you. One of the ones taken when you’d surprised him at his show back in February. He’s holding Callie who has her arms wrapped around his neck, smiling big at the camera with his other arm hooked around you, your body angled into him, hand on his chest.

It’s one of your favorite photos.

Your eyes drop to his lengthy caption.

@/RomanReigns: I’ve never been one to openly discuss my personal life because, quite frankly, it’s no one’s business. Unfortunately, I’m now forced to do so due to a clearly unwell and pathetic individual who has taken parts of the truth and padded it with lies. My girlfriend and I share one child together. This is my biological child. There’s never been a question of paternity. Her mother never coerced or blackmailed me into shit. Y/N has been villainized as a vindictive gold-digger and liar when that is absolutely bullshit. She is an amazing mother, friend, and partner whom I love fiercely and protectively. The same goes for my daughter. They are my world, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect them. Having our daughter’s photos and personal videos posted all over the internet has been equally heartbreaking as it is infuriating for the both of us. Legal action is currently being pursued for all involved in the doxing and sharing of personal media of my family as well as other atrocities that have taken place behind the scenes you all don’t even know about. All of this is entirely unacceptable and will be dealt with to the fullest extent of the law. And to everyone who has so much to say about a situation you know nothing about outside of the lies circulating, remember these are real people with real feelings.

But most importantly, keep my girlfriend and daughter’s name out of your fucking mouths.

~Joe

Tears are starting to burn your eyes as you stare down at the man sleeping on top of you. The man who never ceases to amaze you with how far he’ll go to show you just how much he loves and cares about you.

He didn’t have to do this, didn’t have to go against his preference to keep his personal life off the internet. But, he did. He did it to send a message to everyone.

To send a message to Mariah.

You press a gentle kiss against the top of his head, knowing doing so won’t disturb his sleep.

And though against your better judgment, decide to read a few comments, knowing it’s bound to be a batch of mixed reactions. 

@/User1: Damn, Roman said keep my wife’s name out your fucking mouth! Watch Will Smith join the match at WrestleMania.

@/User2: Used to be a big fan, but I could never support a cheater. Unfollowing.

@/User3: How many of you actually watched the interview with the “friend”? It’s obvious she’s lying about a lot of things she said, because most of it wasn’t adding up.

@/User4: My thing is why did you hide this kid and girlfriend you supposedly “love” so much? Feels like you got exposed and now you’re trying to save face.

@/User5: This is all so messy and shameful. He definitely needs to lose his title at WM. What a joke and embarrassment to the WWE.

@/User6: It’s funny how so many of you are ignoring the fact that he signed this with his real name. “Roman” is a real person clearly going through heavy shit right now. Who cares about a fucking title?

@/User7: How about you learn to “acknowledge” the truth, Mr. “tribal chief”?

@/UceyJucey: Man, this family right here. We go you, Y/N and Big Dog. For life!

@/BigLexPurr: Ya’ll gon see JOE don’t play about HIS!

@/JonathanFatu: FOE 

@/RomanReigns has turned off comments for this post. 

The comments are to be expected, though it warms you to see familiar names coming to your defense, seeing that while there may be a lot of hatred being spewed your way, there’s still an abundance of love and support that encompasses you.

But, it’s when you come across a reference to the Bloodline that an idea hits you, smashes into you so strongly that you have to wake Joe to get the ball rolling.

“Baby.” He’s knocked out, so it takes a couple of shakes and slaps to finally get him to stir. “Joe!”

Finally, he stirs, sighing loudly as he groans, “fine, you getting on top though.”

Rolling your eyes, you shove his shoulder. “Not that. Can I use one of your cars tomorrow morning? And I need you to stay and watch Callie for a bit.”

At this, he opens his eyes, looking you over with confusion. “Where you going?”

“It’s a surprise. Just….trust me, okay?” Leaning to kiss his cheek, you throw out a quick ‘thank you’ and turn back on your side. Only to squeal quietly when his big hands move you onto your back. One look at him, and you know what he wants. “Joe, it’s like 3 o’clock in the morning.”

“Should have thought about that before you woke me up….” His mouth is on your neck, right hand moving under his shirt that hides your nude body, gripping your breast. “Let me just taste you….”

There’s a strong desire and almost responsibility you feel to press your legs together and direct him to go back to sleep, but raging, most likely pregnancy fueled hormones, along with the fact that you want to enjoy this for as long as you can before pregnancy body stops all sexual acts, are just too damn strong.

So you simply chew on your bottom lip, watching his dark silky head disappear under the covers and enjoy the toe curling ride of fantasy that is his skilled tongue on you.

—-------

You’re out of the house by 7am sharp, the sun still making its way to introduce the new day, but that doesn't matter. 

You’re a woman on a mission, a mission that has a ticking deadline. Joe has to fly back out tomorrow, so you can’t waste one precious moment.

Target has almost everything you need, sans a couple of items that you pick up at Walmart. 

And Alexis, who finally calmed down enough after getting drunk as hell and hooking up with some random she met on the boardwalk, agreed to keep Callie for you for a little bit. It’s a double win, because Callie always has a good time with Alexis, and Alexis can’t catch a murder charge if she’s on babysitting duty.

Of course, Joe being Joe, has a million and one questions. Understandably so.

“Can you at least tell me why you had Alexis come get Callie?” And before you can give him the vaguest answer, he adds on, “or what the hell is in those boxes?”

His question comes from behind as you carry said cake boxes up the steps, reaching the top and offering him a teasing glare. “And you always say I suck at surprises.”

“I’m too old for surprises, baby.”

Baby…..

God, you can’t wait to see his reaction.

“Patience, lover. Patience.” You then gesture with your chin to the first door with a sticky note on it. “Open that one.”

Joe looks taken back, reading the post-it. “Option 1? Option 1 for what?”

This man….. “I see where Callie gets her questioning nature from. Boy, just open the damn door.” 

He rolls his eyes, walking in and looking around. “There’s literally nothing in this room.”

“Yet,” you correct, encouraging him. “Just….be mindful of the layout and what it could be.”

“It can’t be anything considering it’s empty as hell.”

“Joe, I swear to—” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Come on. Let’s look at the other ones.”

And you have him do just that, viewing two more rooms that he doesn’t realize you’ve shortlisted as potential nurseries. He makes his smartass comments, of course, but you also know it’s in jest and he really just wants to know what’s going on. 

So, it’s when you finish and bring him back to the kitchen, directing him to sit on the barstool as you lay out the two boxes in front of him. “You gon tell me why you had me look at empty rooms while you carried boxes?”

“Stop being difficult.” Slapping him on the shoulder, your nerves begin to set in as you motion to the counter. “Pick one to open. Only one.”

Joe’s curious gaze is on you, humor dropping a bit as he asks, in all seriousness. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Just…..trust me.” It’s a simple but powerful thing to say given the past couple days. You know he does and know he will. “Pick one.”

Waiting for him to carefully pull the tape off to open the box, you time it perfectly so at the same time he’s lifting the lid, you murmur, “I think it’s a boy too…..”

Joe’s gaze snaps to yours at your statement but also refers back to the now open box. “Y/N….what is this?”

Eyes starting to water, you manage to tease him, “don’t tell me the Tribal Chief suddenly doesn’t know how to read.”

There’s a close and careful watch you have on Joe as his eyes go from left to right, clearly reading the words you have beautifully decorated on the inside of the cake box that’s filled with freshly baked chocolate chip cookies dyed blue with food coloring.

The other box is filled with chocolate chip cookies dyed pink.

Same message located on the lid of the box.

BREAKING NEWS: 

New Bloodline Member Coming Soon. Ready to acknowledge daddy in September, 2024.

He does that one, two, three times before slowly looking back up at you, a level of emotion in his gaze and eyes you’re not sure you’ve ever seen. 

His voice is so low, so imbued with vulnerability that you almost have to ask him to repeat himself. “You serious?”

Shaking your head, you reach out, pushing back some of his hair. “I wouldn't lie to you about this, Leati…….” Taking his hand and placing it on your stomach, you layer your own on top of his. “I’m pregnant…..we’re having another baby.” Sniffling, tears finally starting to spill, you add, “and no one knows but you and me. Not my mom. Not Alexis. Not Callie. Just you and me.” Licking your lips, you acknowledge. “I didn’t do it right the first time, but I’m gonna do everything right this time.”

Joe not saying anything initially makes you second guess yourself. Were you wrong to assume that he would be happy? Given everything that’s happened, has it changed his views on things? You thought that he would be thrilled at the idea of expanding your family, but what if you were wrong?

It’s only seconds later though that he shoots up from the chair, wrapping his strong arms around you, holding you maybe tighter than what’s necessary.

All concern is washed away, a happy giggle leaving your mouth as he spins you around. 

Back on the ground, his hands on your face. “I love you.” His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheek. You swear his eyes are glazed over with unshed tears. “I love you with everything in me.”

“I love you too,” you murmur, choked up and moved by his reaction. He's thrilled. “And I know things are a mess right now, but I couldn’t miss this opportunity to tell you while you’re in town.”

Everything is certainly not the way it should be, but for him to be here, to be with you, and for you to not tell him felt so wrong. You didn't want to make him wait any longer than he needed to.

“September…..” You can see he’s doing the math in his head, hand dropping to your stomach. “You’re three months?”

“Just about. End of March will mark officially three months, but I just found out at the OB-GYN appointment I had. I wanted to tell you right away, but I also wanted to do it in person, because you deserve as much.” You find yourself rambling, probably over-explaining, but the last thing you want is for him to think you’ve been keeping this from him. “It’s up to you, but I do think we should tell Callie first.”

You've thought about it, and to some extent, you have some concern about how she’ll respond. She’s been an only child her whole life, obviously. And she already doesn’t like ‘sharing’ Joe with you sometimes, how will she respond to a brother or sister?

Joe must be reading your mind as he kisses your forehead. “We’ll figure it out.” Another realization also crosses his mind as he connects more dots. “The rooms…..you think one of them could be the nursery.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you tease him. “Well, it took you long enough to put two and two together.” Yelping, you laugh when Joe squeezes your hip and picks you up, bridal style. “Joe!”

“Let’s go look again,” he implores, and you know it’s because he wants to go again because now he knows this will be the room where your baby will stay in, the room where you’ll nurse him or her, where he’ll finally be able to enjoy being a father from conception to birth. 

It makes this moment even better.

But, you need something else.

You call for him to wait, pointing to the box of cookies. “What?” You ask after he moves close enough for you to grab them. Rubbing your belly, you remind him with all the pride in the world, “mama’s eating for two now.”

—-------

The day is perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

It’s a day where you can temporarily forget all of the bullshit in your life that doesn’t matter in these moments where it’s just the three of you.

Well, four, technically. 

The day is spent shopping, of all things, Joe refusing to leave without you finally getting a bedroom set. The one, ironically, that Alexis pointed out the other day. It really does look like the both of you.

He also might have made a sly comment regarding making good use of the mirror.....

On top of that, you start to casually peruse nursery furniture, nothing too obvious to where Callie can tell. You and Joe haven’t settled on when or how to tell her, but you’re leaning more toward after WrestleMania. He’ll be off that week, so it gives you both time to tackle any big emotions that might come up.

And Joe….

It deeply endears you to notice the little things. He’s always been touchy feely, but his hand seemed to find a space on or near your stomach all day. Gentle kisses pressed against your temple and more “I love you’s” than usual. You know it’s all because he’s wholly and fully happy. This pregnancy means more to him than you could probably ever comprehend.

And being able to make him so happy when he’s made you happier means everything to you.

Even laying in bed together, enjoying your time with each other before he has to leave early in the morning, his big hand is splayed protectively across your stomach. You appreciate all of these moments, know that the next almost six months of your pregnancy will be filled with them.

Even with some dread at trying to navigate this pregnancy with Joe’s crazy work schedule, you’re more happy than anything. Ecstatic that you get to experience this pregnancy with him this time around.

Together. 

Sleep is finally about to overcome you when your phone dings on your nightstand. Tempted to leave it, it’s hard to do so when it vibrates several different times.

Not knowing if it could be something serious or requiring immediate attention, you reach over, unlocking to see you have five texts from an unknown number.

But, the sender is no longer unknown the moment you open the thread.

Unknown: Hi, Y/N. This is Jadah. 

This…..this has to be a joke, has to be some kind of cruel prank that’s all a part of Mariah’s apparent master plan to ruin your life.

Because there’s no way in hell Joe’s ex-wife is texting you. No way in hell. 

But before you can block the number, chalking it up as a cruel prank, you see she’s sent a screenshot of a conversation between her and Joe. Zooming in, you see it’s from around October with them discussing the details of the divorce.

Holy…..shit.

It is her.

Jadah: Just so you know it’s really me…..

And if you weren’t already about to drop your damn phone onto Joe’s head at the fact that thee fucking Jadah is actually texting you right now, her next set of messages nearly send you into cardiac arrest.

Jadah: Super strange/inconvenient way for me to reach out, but given everything that’s going on, I think it’s time we met and talked face to face.

Jadah: Even more, since this hoe got so much to say about OUR lives, I also think it’s time we take back the narrative and pull an Uno reverse card.

Jadah: How do you feel about going on IG Live together?

[rottingworship]

Beg and Bargain

The Proxies x Fem!Reader | Chapter Three

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Summary: Things seem to go sideways fast, but thankfully you are able to eat beforehand.

Warnings: Mean Toby, name calling, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, pet names (love, my love)

A/N: this was fun, so fun to write! I can't say I did it all by myself, I did have some help from @babehlockdemdoors with some ideas for Toby!

Word Count: 3.2k

“What did she say?” Brian looks at Tim with curiosity.

“She made John kill himself.”

“O-O-Obviously.” Toby rolls his eyes.

“She also has a fucking roommate–” Brian goes to interupt him, Tim puts up his hand. “She controlled her. Convinced her everything was fine.”

“Her own roommate?” Brian cocks a brow.

“I also learned that John was not a great man.”

“M-most pigs aren't.”

“He was going to kill her. And he somehow knew about her abilities. And so does her roommate. But she says her roommate wouldn't tell anyone.” Tim is giving them everything he learned. “She had never used her ability for bad, so she says. I don't know what that really means though.”

There's quite a huge gray area. They aren't sure how gray you are. Nothing is black and white. Something is off with you.

“If I c-could control people-” Toby starts.

“We don't wanna know what you would do, Toby.” Brian warns. “Got anything else?”

“She's very obedient.” Tim remarks. “It’s… odd. She doesn't really question much. She was upset about the blindfold, but I kinda see why.” He pauses and looks at Toby. “Can you get in her phone?”

“Already tr-tried.” Toby shrugs. “I don't kn-know the code. She has a couple n-notifications from a ‘Val’.”

As he says that, your phone goes off. Toby pulls it from his pocket and looks at it. Another message from Val is visible on the lock screen.

Hey what the fuck was that about earlier?

Another one comes through.

Who was with u?

Toby leaves it alone. He doesn't think anything about it. None of them do. The front door opens and you step onto the porch wearing a baggy shirt down to your thighs and your feet are bare.

“What are you three still doing out here?”

_-_-_-_-_-_

Your bare feet hurt against the old wooden porch. You ignore it. You watch the three of them, your arms wrapping around yourself.

“A-are you not co-cold?” Toby cocks his head at you.

You nod at him. “Freezing. Please come in. I have a question.” You turn around and walk back inside where it's slightly warmer. Goosebumps cover your skin and your arms drop to your sides. You sigh.

Brian walks in first. “What's going on?”

“I'm famished.” As you finish your sentence Brian goes to open his mouth. “And don't say eat something around here. I already tried that.”

Tim and Toby walk in and you hear a muffled, disgustingly inappropriate song. Toby, not thinking, takes a phone from his pocket and you realize it's Val’s ringtone. It's your phone. Your eyes narrow.

“Wha-what is this ringtone?” Toby scrunches his nose.

“It's none of your business! You still have my phone on you!?” You are sure these men are going to make you pull your hair out. The phone stops ringing and you place yourself in front of Toby. It goes off again. A text this time. Toby looks at it. You try to peek at the phone but Toby is quick to move. You follow him. “Toby! What does it say?”

“It’s locked, I ca-can’t read all of it.”

You look at him with half lidded eyes, full of fucking rage. “What can you read?”

Your sudden anger seems to catch them all off guard. Toby reads what he can see from your lock screen. “It’s fr-from Val. She says ‘Saw J-John on the news. He’s dead, th-they say-’ It cuts off.”

Another ding. Another message from Val.

“She is ca-calling the police.”

You have had enough. You snatch the phone before Toby can stop you and take off. Three against one, your odds don’t look too good. You call her back without even unlocking the phone and run from Brian, Toby, and Tim.

“Get back here!”

You end up in the kitchen, behind the table, surrounded by them by time Val answers.

“Hey!” Everyone freezes as you speak. “How’s it going?” You try to sound enthused. Your eyes hit Tim and he mouths for you to put it on speaker. You comply.

“You’re out of breath.” She states it, her concern is palpable. “Where are you?”

“I’m on vacation. Just having fun-”

“With the man from earlier?” She sounds less stressed. But still concerned for your well being. When you take a second to respond, she speaks again. “Love,” She starts, “are you okay?”

“Yes.” You swallow hard. “I’m fine. I’m- I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

“You aren’t reading my messages,” Val is devastated, “and you- you used your mind powers on me. You promised you wouldn’t do that-” You pout, thankful she cannot see your face. You did promise that. “Please, I need to know that I don’t need to call the police.”

“You don’t.” You try to sound as calm as possible. “I’m o-”

“What about John?” Val’s tone… She sounds worried about him. Your face contorts. She continues, “He’s dead. They found him in the woods, a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

“What does that have to do with me?” You are gripping your phone. Your eyes move up from the screen and towards the men surrounding you. They are all frozen, tense, waiting for you to slip up. There is silence.

“Well, he moved a while ago… Why did he come back?” There is a pause. “Did he hurt you?”

“Val,” Your voice is low and level, but definitely able to break at any second. “I do not want to think about John on my vacation. I’m trying to relax.” Really, you are, it’s incredibly hard though.

“Okay… If you’re okay, I’m just going to forget about what happened earlier. Please, be safe this week. If something happened to John… Just be safe. Oh! Before you go!” She sounds happier now, thinking you’re safe. “Are you really out of breath because of that man from earlier?” You feel your face burning as she asks. You can practically see her brows wiggling as she asks that. “I do think it was time for you to move on! I hope this helps your-”

“I have to go! Bye, love you!” You hang up. Your eyes are wide and your face is hot. You let out a nervous laugh and hope they did not even notice Val’s question.

They did.

“Helps y-your what?”

“None of your business!” You shout. You hold the phone in your hand, waiting for them to ask for it back. You are not giving it up unless they ask. “Sorry, she’s overbearing.” You roll your eyes, “She’s nosy, always has been.” Your stomach growls. “Can I please get some food? I’ll buy it, you can blindfold me, I don’t care. I haven’t eaten since before-” Since before John died. Or was murdered… By you.

“You’re gonna buy it?” Brian asks.

“Yeah! Hold on!” You walk off, phone still in hand, causing the three to follow you. You walk towards the couch, where you laid your bag (and dirty clothes), and rummage through your stuff. You pull out a wallet. “You’re lucky I have this. I’m sure if my ID were found somewhere we’d be fucked.”

‘We’. Not just them. ‘We’.

“I have money, I’ll buy my food. I can even go shopping if you want?” You cock your head. “Not now of course.” You motion to yourself. “But eventually.”

“We don’t usually stay in one place for too long, it may be useless grocery shopping.” Tim informs you.

Your mouth forms an ‘o’.

“I’ll take you to get food.” Brian states it, it isn't an offer. You feel awkward suddenly. You aren’t very comfortable around any of them, but at least Tim you know most (which still isn’t a lot). Toby picked twigs out of your hair. Brian has not done much for you, or with you. “I’ll be outside waiting.”

You nod, swallowing hard. You remember your dirty clothes and ask Toby about them, before heading out. He points towards the laundry room and you take them back quickly. You promise you’ll wash them when you get back. You slide some sweatpants and a jacket on and then your crocs. Your feet don’t feel as bad anymore, but you are still sore. You can mostly only think about your hunger though.

You walk outside and immediately cold air hits you. Brian is waiting beside the car, blindfold in hand. You make your way towards him and take in a shaky breath. As soon as you reach him, you turn around and let him put the blindfold on you. He helps you inside the car, and then he gets in. You struggle briefly to buckle. His hand touches yours and you tense. He helps you with the seatbelt.

“Thanks,” You mumble and look ahead (you hope you are looking ahead). “Would hate to get pulled over while being unbuckled.”

“I think that is the least of our worries.” You can feel Brian’s eyes on you. He starts the car, and you shift. “What did you want?”

“Oh,” You place your hands on your thighs, “I'm not that picky. Just some chicken nuggets and some fries would be fine.”

Brian nods, but you don’t see it. You hope he takes you to get food. And isn’t taking you somewhere to kill you. But then again, maybe that wouldn’t be too bad considering your situation.

_-_-_-_-_-_

Brian is sitting across from you. You are at McDonald’s, eating your chicken nuggets. You can feel your mood shifting as you eat. Your hunger is disappearing. You don’t feel so irritated. Brian watches you eat. He isn’t saying much of anything, and all you can feel is his eyes staring directly at you. It’s getting hard to ignore.

“Is everything okay?” You ask him, looking up. You wipe your mouth, “Is something on my face?”

He sucks in air and shifts in his seat. He shakes his head, “No, no, nothing on your face.” As he says that, you cock your head as if asking ‘then what?’ and he hesitates. He is thinking. “You don’t question much of anything… Do you?”

You let out a short laugh and take a sip of your coke. “Brian, I’ve never not been in control. I don’t know if you gathered that… But- I just-” You bite the inside of your bottom lip. “This doesn’t feel real…”

“I assure you,” He stares at you, suddenly seeming… gone, “it is real.”

You nod. You do not verbally respond. Quickly, you finish eating. Once you stand up to throw your food away, Brian stands too. He follows close behind you. As you throw your food away you hear footsteps approaching fast. Your name is the next thing you hear. Brian places a hand on your hip immediately. You turn around and spot Val. You want to bring your palm to your forehead. You cringe.

“Val!” You shoot Brian a look, trying to get him to release you, before looking back at Val. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m getting food…” Her voice trails off. Her bright green eyes look up at Brian and she starts to open her mouth. She pauses. “Who is this…?” She obviously knows it is not the man you had at your apartment.

“My friend.” You smile at her.

“How many ‘friends’ do you have?”

“Three.” You blurt it out, without thinking. Brian’s grip only tightens. You try to hold back an awkward laugh.

“My love,” Val’s lips purse, “what the fuck?” She whispers. “This is not like you… at all. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod, smiling at her. “Yes, positive!” Brian’s hand gives you a gentle squeeze, telling you ‘good job’. Your knees grow weak. “But, I do have to go soon-”

“Wait!” She puts a hand up, “Promise me, if something goes sideways, you’ll get help?”

Your face contorts. “Sideways?” You are reeling. “What are you on about? Look,” You grab her hand, “Val, I am okay. Everything is okay. I’ll talk to you again soon. But, I’m-”

“Getting over some past stuff with John?” As soon as she says it, your face twists again. “Y’know? He was so… Odd. I mean, I would go throw myself on some men too, if he was who I had been stuck with for God knows how long!”

Brian’s hand, still resting on your hip, threatens to move. You quickly place your hand over his, keeping him there. “See! Now you’re getting it!” You try to reassure her. “I’ll try to stay in touch, but just know… I love you.”

Val lets you know she loves you too and heads back to her table. You and Brian head back out to the car and you sit down in the passenger seat. You look ahead. Lying is really taking it out of you.

“Thanks for doing that for me… taking me to get food.” You rub up and down your thighs. Brian nods and starts the car. You just want to sleep. You feel like that isn’t happening anytime soon.

_-_-_-_-_-_

You are right.

It’s you and Toby alone at the cabin. You really wanted to nap, but now Toby won’t leave you alone. You are facing the ceiling, lying on the couch. Your breathing is slow and your eyes are shut. All you can hear is Toby talking, it’s almost lulling you to sleep. Almost.

“Fucking bitch!”

His voice rings through the cabin. You have never sat up so fast in your life. Your legs swing over the couch and you narrow your eyes at Toby. He continues talking.

“Whoa, whoa-” You put a hand up. “What did you call me?”

Toby stops. “Oh, that was- I-I have tourettes.” He says it like you should already know. “Any-Anyway, like I w-was saying, we need to- to make sure you are capable of pro-protecting yourself.”

Your fists ball up, and immediately unclench. “Toby, did you forget I could, I don't know, mind control people?” You cock a brow at him. “I don’t need to be able to get away. But, I think I could still get away. Without my ability. I got away from you, Brian, and Tim earlier.” Toby stands up from the end of the couch. He walks off. “Okay, whatever…” You lean back and close your eyes again.

Something clicks. You furrow your brows and when footsteps reach the door, and you hear it lock, you sit up and your eyes pop open. Toby stands a few feet from you, a hatchet in each hand. You are sure your eyes are going to pop out of your head. You scoot over on the couch and your jaw drops.

“Toby… What are you-”

“Run, fuh-fight, or hide.” It’s all he gives you.

You leap up from the couch and take off towards somewhere. You have no clue where anything is. You know the kitchen and living room. That is it. You make your way into the kitchen and slam into the back door. It’s locked. You have absolutely no time to unlock it. A hatchet slams beside your head and a scream rips from your throat. You beg for him to stop.

He does not.

You rip away from him, and sprint down the short hallway. You slam into one of the rooms and head for the window. It will not budge. Tears fill your eyes. You are begging and screaming for him to stop.

“Fucking co-coward!”

“Toby!” You scream as you fall back. His eyes lock with yours. He does not look away. You inhale sharply. You cannot fuck this up. “Stop.”

Toby freezes.

“Drop your hatchets.”

He listens again. Your head begins to hurt.

“Do not fucking move.”

You feel it before it happens. Your nose is about to bleed. You tear out of the room faster than you had ever moved before. You head to the front door. You unlock it and swing it open. You step onto the front porch, your feet hit the cold wood and you hiss. Something is coming from the woods. Your heart is pounding into your ribcage.

You make out Tim’s jacket before anything. You rush towards him. When you notice his mask, you pretend that it’s normal. That’s how you first met them, it’s not hard to connect the dots. He was out ‘working’. He is slightly bloody, but definitely looks more welcoming than Toby.

“Tim!” You scream, nose gushing blood at this point. “Tim, it’s Toby!” You reach him and grab his arms. “Help me!” Your voice is breaking. “Please-”

Tim reaches for you, his hands grab your waist. He cocks his head at you and your eyes meet his. There is something different about him. That’s not Tim. You really think you are going to faint. His grip on you tightens and you feel his fingertips digging into your skin through your shirt. You struggle to get out of his grasp.

“Toby!” You are yelling for him again. You release him from your mental grasp and rush towards the house. ‘Not Tim’ is hot on your trail. The front door almost swings off of its hinges and Toby stomps onto the front porch. “Please, you have to stop! Something has happened to Tim!” You point behind you.

Toby easily jumps off the porch and begins to stalk towards you. You can’t breathe. Tears start coming. You are sure Toby is going to kill you. You stumble back and rush away from both of the men. You are sobbing. Something slams into your back and you hit the ground. You land beside a stump. A knee is in your back, your cheek against the cold, hard dirt. Your nails are digging into the dead grass.

“L-look at you.” Toby clicks his tongue. “So- So pathetic.” You look at him the best you can, but you can’t see him. Not fully. “Can’t do-do much without your po-power, huh?” Tears cover your face, falling from your cheeks onto the dirt.

You see, out of the corner of your eye, his hatchet raising. You scream. You have never screamed so much in your life. He brings it down. Another loud plea rips from your chest. The hatchet hits the stump.

You want to sigh. You let out a strangled sob and you can’t breathe. You are sucking in dirt as you try to catch your breath. The knee suddenly moves off your back and you are grabbed. You are flipped over and your back hits the ground this time. Toby is leaning over you. He is inches from your face.

“Please!” You scream, “I’m-” You can’t think. “I’m sorry!”

Toby tenses. “We-weak.” He mumbles. You try to cover your face. Your hands are stopped by Toby’s knees. He is restraining you. “Fucking weak.”

“Toby!” You hear Tim. “Get off of her!” He is running towards you. You are uncontrollably sobbing. Toby doesn’t protest. He grabs his hatchets and leaves you. He walks off into the woods and you look at Tim. “Are you-” You shake your head. When he reaches for you, you scoot away. Tim freezes, his eyes widening. “What did I-”

You get up. You run straight back into the cabin. Tim does not chase you. You hide in the bathroom. You close and lock the door. You sit on the floor, back to the door and you cry. You look at your phone and cry. You know you can’t really explain what happened to anyone, so you just sit and cry.

Once you finally catch your breath and can think somewhat straight, you figure it’s best to sleep in the bathroom tonight. If your mind lets you sleep at all…

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 3

Read Ding here | ~6.5k words

Warnings: scummy man appearance, angst involving the frustration/grief/sadness of the last part regarding her shitty experience with said scummy man, fluff

Summary: Harry wants to know what happened to Cupcake. She really isn't sure she wants to tell him. Until she has to.

From me: NEW DIVIDER BY @babegoals THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR CREATIVITY AND SUPPORT AND JUST EXISTING 💕

Harry was mad.

Fuming. He had thought about nothing else but seeing her for the last two months and now that he had seen her, he was pissed to see her at his self-defense class. He asked her the same question about ten times throughout the instruction. He was furious and irritated that everyone else needed his help (even though it was literally what he was being paid for) when all he wanted was to talk to her.

He was all for helping women feel empowered. But he was mad she needed it. He knew she was feisty. The fact that she was there said a lot in its own right. The way she bantered with him until three in the morning texting him the other night made him smile more than he could describe. It was flirty and sweet. But always had him guessing if she would suddenly stop messaging for one reason or another.

Someone like her needed someone—maybe even someone like Harry—to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. And he knew. He knew why women went to self-defense classes. He had been teaching these classes since before he owned his own gym.

He knew.

"Why are y’here, Cupcake?" He asked gruffly. The other women nearby were all but forgotten. One was mid-sentence, asking to clarify something Louis had said. Harry was practically rude to just ignore her question in favor of his own.

“Umm... for self-defense,” she muttered trying to focus on Louis’ answer.

Harry didn’t want her banter right now. (As cute as it was to him, despite his irritation.) “Right. But usually everyone has a story that... convinces themselves t’sign up. So what’s your story?” He repeated.

He watched the way her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she folded her arms protectively in front of her. Guarding herself. “That’s kind of personal, Harry.”

Once Harry’s anger took hold, it was hard to backtrack. “Listen,” he shook his head. The annoyance that clouded his eyes and covered his face was so obvious, she felt the slightest bit bad about interrupting his lesson with her own issues. “M’not good at this kind of thing, Cupcake. Being subtle. I punch people for a minimal living and work the rest of m’time here, teaching people how t’punch.”

Part of her wanted to break down and tell him. Because as much as she was willing to do this on her own, she was so scared. That nervousness made her feel even weaker, and she wanted to tell Harry, she realized. She wanted someone to know and to help her because this wasn’t something she wanted to deal with on her own—it was too much.

But she couldn’t do it right in the middle of a self-defense lesson, surrounded by strangers. “I’m here to learn how to punch,” her voice was even and final.

His nostrils flared and he stalked back to the front of the room, a trail of anger coming off him as he did. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her.

The remainder of the lesson went by without incident on Harry’s part. He watched her the entire time. The way she flinched when they practiced moves made him nauseous. But he couldn’t help but notice how good her stances were. Almost natural. “Hey, love,” Louis smiled at her kindly as he geared up to practice more tactile moves. “You liked his match so much you wanted to try on your own?” He asked.

She smiled, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Something like that.”

“It’s good skills to have,” he assured her gently, because even though Harry’s infatuation annoyed him at the time, he knew Harry liked her. A lot. Knew just as well as Harry did why women signed up for a self-defense class. “You have a very natural stance,” he noted. “We should get you in the ring,” he winked at her.

She laughed lightly. “I don’t even know how to make a fist,” she snorted.

Louis chuckled giving her a gentle shoulder squeeze and moved onto the next person.

Harry moved in front of her next and he looked at her footing. Aligned near perfectly and practiced as if she had been doing it her whole life. He was still steaming with anger. It rolled off him and demanded to be felt—and she felt every bit of it. “S’like you’ve done this before,” he muttered.

“I haven’t,” she answered. “I’m just good at following directions. Like a recipe, you know?”

He was staring at her feet and trailed up to her hand where he carefully took hold of her delicate fingers. Instantly, it felt like her whole arm was made of jelly. Her heart took off about the speed of an airplane and she was lucky she could hear anything over the sound of it. Harry touching her skin made her feel faint. Carefully, he bent her fingers and tucked her thumb below the flat of her knuckles. It felt so intimate it seemed wrong to be doing this in a class put on for the public. Holding her wrist, he brought her fist to his cheek and tapped it against his skin a few times. “Like that,” he murmured.

She wanted to be cute and smile. Say something like, I’ll keep that in mind for strangers in dark parking lots when I ding their car. But instead, she was overcome with gratitude for the knowledge and a bit of awe. She was speechless without meaning to be. He released her wrist, and she wanted nothing more than to grab his hand again and never let go. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded sullenly.

Harry felt defeated—something he didn’t enjoy at all. Rarely did he feel it, but he wished he felt defeated after a match more so than he did right then. All he could do was walk away from her and finish the lesson without chatting with her again.

*

In hindsight, confronting her in the middle of a self-defense lesson wasn’t his wisest choice. The following morning, he had a renewed spirit and was once more determined to chat with her and figure out what made her join a self-defense class.

What he hadn’t anticipated was how stubborn she could be. He should have known but he was willing to dig his heels in as long as she was. Harry went to the bakery morning, noon, and night—literally—trying to figure out her schedule. “Again?” The girl behind the counter asked suspiciously when they returned at four in the afternoon on the third day of waiting. She had been there all day and hadn’t said anything up until their third arrival.

Niall shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, darling. He’s being super creepy, yeah?” Niall elbowed him with irritation. They sat at a table as they had the last few days. They didn’t stay long, only fifteen minutes to half an hour. (And they only stayed half an hour once because Niall had to get one of the cronuts that he had been pining for since he saw them.)

Harry was looking at their text message thread. The last message was from him. Are you working now? C’mon, Cupcake, you’re killing me here :(

It went unanswered since yesterday afternoon.

“He’s trying to talk to Miss Cupcake,” Niall rolled his eyes. He missed the back and forth between the girl behind the counter. “But I think he’s being a bit ridiculous.”

“Oh, were you her bad date?” She frowned.

Harry was still looking at his phone, checking his schedules, and making sure he didn’t miss anything in his email or messages from his mum or sister. But the moment the girl behind the counter spoke, his head snapped up to meet her gaze.

“What bad date?” He asked, his voice low, menacing.

The girl behind the counter blanched. Feeling bad she revealed something she obviously wasn’t supposed to and quite honestly, if he was her bad date, that was a horrible thing to announce. It was a reflex. “I don’t know, actually,” she tried to backtrack. “I don’t know why I said that out loud.”

“We won’t tell, darling,” Niall assured her. “Do you know when Miss Cupcake works, it would save Harry—and you—a lot of trouble.”

“OH!” She shook her head and went around to the front of the counter. Her eyes widened. “You’re Harry. Context clues, I didn’t recognize you without gloves,” she smiled excitedly. “Thank goodness, I almost closed this place down.”

Harry turned to the girl again feeling a warmth pass over him at the idea that she talked about him to her friend. “Oh brother, so she does like Harry?” Niall grumbled.

“I’m Maeve,” she announced.

“Maeve,” Harry stood up and held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you.”

“You have a very cute niece.”

Now Harry really couldn’t help but smile because that little girl was practically his own pride and joy. And she was very cute. Plus, it meant she really was talking about Harry to her friend and that had to mean something. “Thank you, she’s perfect,” he agreed. But then he refocused on why he was haunting the bakery. “Does she not work during the day?”

“She pops in,” Maeve shrugged and fiddled with the cupcake display. He noted there was a raspberry filled one on the top tier. He recognized that cake and frosting pair anywhere. “But she’s been mostly coming in after close,” she admitted. “She’s been a little...stingy with details about everything. She gets like this sometimes. Compartmentalizes things so she can deal with it when she needs to,” Maeve bit her lip. “She’s visiting her dad right now.”

Harry realized there was very little he really knew about her. Most of their chatting had surrounded the bakery, boxing, and Harry’s niece. There was a little bit of information about their education and some books and hobbies they liked. But there wasn’t a huge depth of knowledge of her family.

“Oh,” Harry felt defeated again. “Uh... I guess we’ll go then,” he mumbled. “Try later.”

Maeve sighed. “She really likes you, Harry. Really,” she promised with a sad smile. “She’s just...a little stubborn and careful with her heart.”

Harry nodded. “Got it,” he could handle that.

*

She parked as close as she could to the bakery in the parking lot. Thinking about all the steps and stances that Louis and Harry had told her during her class. She took a deep breath and opened her car door. As she went to the back of her car to grab supplies from her trunk, she noticed a plethora of other cars parked in the lot—most people were probably at the restaurant near the waterfront. But there was no way she could miss the car she had accidentally dinged with her door just a few spaces down and across the row from her.

Once more, her gaze met the intense green gaze in the driver’s seat. She sighed knowing there was no escaping this talk anymore. Harry put a bookmark in the novel he was reading while waiting and set it on the passenger seat beside him. He locked his car and hurried to her side, taking the heavy bags of flour and sugar she bought to tide her over until the delivery came to the bakery in the morning. He didn’t speak to her as they walked to the storefront. She was overwhelmingly aware, once more, how safe she felt with Harry beside her in the nearly deserted parking lot. She unlocked the front and held the door open for Harry to enter. “Were you waiting long?” She asked.

He shrugged, putting the supplies on his now regular table while she fiddled with the display case and cupcake display once more. The raspberry one was missing from the top and she went behind the counter to get another. Harry closed the door and locked it, so she was safe inside. It was dark, the only light was a low soft glow coming from the case of treats. It had the glow of a candle, and he wondered if there was a way to keep it that way during the day because it was so warm it made him want one of everything that was in the display. “Yes,” he nodded. “S’okay.”

That felt worse. If he was willing to admit it, it meant he was there a while.

“I’m sorry,” her cheeks felt warm. “I should have just told you when I was working,” she was willing to admit when she was wrong. Harry watched in fascination as she placed the raspberry filled cupcake on top. He wondered if it had always been the one she put on top. He would have imagined the chocolate ganache one was a fan favorite, or the vanilla sprinkles one with the little toothpick and label of A Pinch of Sprinkles on it.

He shrugged again, nearly indifferent. “S’okay,” he repeated. “Read most of my book.”

“Is it a good read?” She asked and grabbed the bag of flour Harry had settled on the table and started for the back. He grabbed the bag of sugar and followed behind her.

He nodded. “Yeah...it’s,” he sighed. “S’a little darker than I expected,” he shrugged. “Was hoping for something lighter.”

“I only read rom-coms in book form,” she smiled. “It’s very light reading, but probably not what you want.”

“Rom-coms?” He repeated. She nodded. “Y’don’t strike me as a rom-com kind of girl.”

“No?”

“Y’seem more like a film noir or suspense.”

“I’ve had enough suspense for a while,” she muttered and turned to her ovens to preheat. Harry placed the sugar beside the flour bag and sat in the same chair he sat in when he fell asleep a couple months prior. He watched her in the same way he had before as she flittered around the kitchen, humming to herself as she worked. “How’s the baby?” She asked.

They were ignoring the elephant in the room, it seemed. But it was the first time he’d seen her since the self-defense lesson. In between his visits to the bakery (his stalking grounds, as Niall was calling it) he had been splitting his time between training, teaching, and ensuring Driven, his gym, was working as expected. He had to call an electrician because the lights in the men’s bathroom kept going out despite the fact, he had already replaced the circuit and lightbulbs a handful of times. But he had gone to see Gemma and his niece two days prior to get his fix of the sweet little girl who made him feel so much better about all the frustration he felt about his favorite Cupcake.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect.”

She grinned back and nodded. “Good, and your sister?”

“Good, thanks for asking,” he thought that was polite of her—he always noticed when people asked about his sister. It wasn’t often. Once the baby was there, it was like they forgot about the mum.

“Does your mom live nearby?” She asked.

“Yeah, especially with the baby. Mum sold her house the moment she found out Gem was pregnant.”

She laughed. “That’s sweet. You’re all close?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Mum’s m’hero,” his voice was filled with admiration so thick it made her feel wobbly on her feet. She wished she had that kind of admiration for her mother. “How ‘bout you? Maeve said y’were visiting your dad? He lives nearby?”

She nodded, guarded. “I feel the way about my dad, the way you feel about your mom,” she explained. There was a pause in conversation that seemed to stretch farther than it needed to. Maybe he was trying to get her to break first. Perhaps she did. “You talked to Maeve?”

He looked at her, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “Didn’t leave me many options, Cupcake,” he reminded her.

She swallowed thickly, nodded. “That’s fair,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Can you please tell me?”

She shook her head. Harry felt so agitated, so defeated. “Not yet,” the bit of hope creeped back in. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and turned away from him. “Sorry,” she sniffled. His heart broke. Quickly, he realized it wasn’t her wanting to hide it from him. It was painful to watch that frustration fall on her face.

“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. He stood quickly and made it to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly not wanting to touch more than she wanted or needed in that moment. His imagination could only guess what went wrong on her date and it was painful to think about for him. He wanted to comfort her, but it had to be at her pace.

At once she melted into his touch. She turned quickly, almost reflexively into his embrace. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her arms wrapped up around his back, and she inhaled shakily. It felt awful to see her sad, feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. But Harry was grateful to hold her so close to him. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, nodded against him.

Harry could live with ‘not yet.’ For now.

*

Over the next week, they went back to texting throughout the day and chatting well beyond bedtime on the nights she wasn’t at the bakery. Additionally, Harry walked beside her from her car to the bakery when she arrived and back through the dark parking lot. Not once did he ask her what went wrong with her date even though it was killing him. She wasn’t budging. She knew Harry was waiting for more details, but she couldn’t. It hurt and she didn’t want to think about it—even if she actually did want to tell him. It was overwhelmingly kind that Harry appeared beside her car—especially at night.

“I’m still really sorry about Clay,” she frowned. Harry didn’t park far away from her like he did the other night. But she was very mindful of her opening the door and not bumping into his car.

“S’okay,” he smiled and rubbed his fingers on the little indent. “Reminds me of you,” he winked at her.

Her heart fluttered and she looked away briefly before smiling back at him. “Like you need more reminders of me,” she murmured.

“Can never have enough, Cupcake,” he assured her. “Can I kiss y’goodnight?” He asked on the third night he walked her though the dark parking lot. Her heart literally skipped a beat. Speechless. He tapped his cheek. “Jus’ the cheek, kitten. Need a proper date before I really kiss you,” he acknowledged and smiled shyly at her. That boyish grin that made her weak in the knees. Breathlessly she nodded. His lips swept across her cheek. It was brief and soft. Like a piece of her hair had brushed over her face and tickled her skin. “Thank you,” he grinned. “Been dying t’do that,” he admitted and once more tucked her safely in her car.

Harry mentioned it only twice more. He never pressed or demanded she reveal the facts of her bad date. It was more of—what he hoped was—a gentle reminder. He was waiting for more information. All he wanted was to assuage her worries and fears. She attended the second class for her self-defense lessons (dropping off a box of blueberry scones at the front desk had everyone in the class asking if they could go after the lesson to pick out their own sweet treats). Harry continued to boil with anger just thinking about her using the moves he and Louis taught her. But it was obvious he was much less angry than the previous week. More so, his anger didn’t extend to her. He was mad, but he understood her choice to keep it to herself.

Louis was going over demonstrations using Harry as the attacker. Everyone watched with rapt attention. “Your goal is to get away,” it was repeated about a hundred times and Harry had the hardest time watching her every time it was repeated. Each time it was said, she flinched. He wasn’t sure she knew it or not—it was a reflex. But she did get away. It terrified her still.

Harry couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t pushing him away. Every night, she thanked him profusely for coming to the bakery and walking her to and from the car. She could see his anger growing beneath the surface. He wanted to know. She was trying so hard to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Now she had two classes under her belt, and she promised herself she would never be in such a vulnerable position again.

“Can I watch you at work?” She asked randomly. It was a morning shift this time. She was covered in flour, and she had frosting streaked in her hair leftover from when she put it up after icing four dozen cupcakes. Harry didn’t think she could look cuter if she tried.

“Watch me?” He repeated.

“Not this again,” she smirked.

He chuckled. “Y’want to watch me train?” He repeated anyway.

She shrugged. “You always watch me bake and stuff.”

“You’ve attended the class, Cupcake. S’pretty much the same thing,” he reminded her.

He noted her cheeks turned pink. “Um...if you don’t want me to hang around then—”

Harry nearly gasped. “Oh, no. No way, kitten. I want y’around. I promise,” he assured her. “Jus’ don’t want you t’be bored.”

“I won’t be,” she shook her head.

That was how she ended up sitting beside the ring, Louis padded and guarded while Harry punched and punched and punched for over an hour. His breath was heaving, and his body was slick with sweat. She watched intently examining his form and his moves like she would one day repeat them.

When he came for water at the end of his training session, he was heavy breathing and smiling at her. He struggled to get the towel he had from his bag beside her with his gloves on. “Bored?” He asked.

“Not even a little,” she assured him, grabbing the little towel and swiping it across his forehead. It felt intimate and made Harry feel warm all throughout his body. “Can I try?” She asked with an impish smile.

He chuckled and nodded. “Come on,” he held the ropes open for her to enter the ring. She wasn’t wearing the right shoes or equipment. Louis rolled his eyes discreetly at Harry and held the pads out for her to hit. “Make the fist I showed you,” she did for both hands. “S’all the balance in your legs,” he promised. “No balance, no punch, no follow-through. Punch through the pad,” he explained and guided her hand to the pad slowly so she could see how it would look and feel to go through it.

“Pretend it’s Harry,” Louis suggested. “That’s what I do.”

She giggled. “I don’t think I could throw a punch if I thought it was Harry,” she admitted and gave her best attempt. It was honestly exhausting. She only threw a dozen or so punches and was breathless as she answered Louis.

“You’ll get there,” he assured her.

Harry scowled at him. “Take the pads off.”

“No, you lunatic.”

“Coward.”

She giggled, thanked Louis, and twisted herself out of the ring again. “That was fun,” she told him. “I can see why you like it. Plus, you’re really good at it.”

Harry was staring at her, the way that sent all the butterflies in the world directly to her stomach and began to flutter as if they were trying to escape. His gaze was firm but gentle, his eyes almost glowing somehow as he looked her over. “Please tell me, Cupcake. I want t’help,” his voice was quiet, begging ever so gently.

She looked at the floor, their shoes were nearly toe-to-toe. “I can’t,” she whispered back.

He nodded, defeat did not come easy to him, and she knew that. “I have t’shower, do some office stuff. Get ready for some lessons and classes,” he told her, his voice the slightest bit disappointed.

“Want me to watch you in the shower too?” She asked hoping to alleviate the mood. It worked, his smile returned to his pretty lips, and he chuckled.

“Hell yes, Cupcake,” he shook his head at her cuteness. “Maybe next time. Not here,” he winked.

Even though it was her that was forward it still made her blush. Plus, joke or not, she agreed here was not a good idea. “I have to do some errands anyway,” she admitted.

“I’ll walk you t’your car,” but she knew he would. It was like a safety blanket being wrapped around her.

She really liked it.

*

After her third self-defense lesson she was feeling more confident. She even showed Maeve some of her moves in the back kitchen. Shadowboxing the same way that she saw Harry do to Louis the night she met him. “I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to give the Queen of Sugar boxing lessons,” Maeve rolled her eyes.

Honestly, she was feeling better. More confident. Plus, she was enjoying her not-so-date-dates with Harry. There was one night when Harry wasn’t around, and she realized she missed him so much. Not only because the dark parking lot seemed more foreboding but because his presence made her happy. Happier than she had been in a really long time. It felt undeserving to be so happy but it wasn’t something she thought about when he was actually there. I missed you.

Oh? 😍

Sorry, I know that’s...

A lot...

I miss you all the time, Cupcake. Think about you all day.

The message made her warm and she wished she could explain how simple it seemed to just have Harry fit in her life. They were busy people, but he always managed to come by and see her. She enjoyed watching him train or sitting with Sarah at the front desk and chatting while he taught classes and lessons. Maeve teased her every time he arrived and she wasn’t there. Can’t you just give him your schedule? The poor guy is going to have to train twice as hard to get rid of the extra cupcake weight.

I like to keep him guessing a little 😉

Today, she was up front on her own—one of her employees called out sick and she didn’t mind in the slightest. Working up front was one of her favorite tasks. Interacting with customers and sharing her gift was something she enjoyed thoroughly. Her other coworker was out back, working on inventory and prepping the bagels for her monthly bagel sale.

Ding.

The bell attached to the front door signaled whenever customers arrived or departed. It was a busy morning. So busy that it took her a minute to realize Harry was sitting with Niall at one of the tables. Niall gave her a wave as she finally got caught in his gaze. She waved back, smiling brightly and paused the customers that were at the counter while she ran to the back and then to the table as quickly as she could. She pecked Harry on the cheek without thinking and deposited a raspberry filled cupcake and a personal sized loaf of Irish soda bread.

Harry felt as gooey as the filling on the inside of his cupcake. Her soft little kiss made him crazier for her. Watching her made him happy. Being around her made him happy. Happier than the little kid that was bullied could have dreamed.

Niall was making noises that would have embarrassed the porn industry while eating his bread. Harry snorted at him, tried to steal a piece, only for Niall to slap his hand away. “Eat your cupcake,” he nearly snarled.

“She could make more, m’sure.”

Niall shook his head stuffing his face of the treat made specially for him.

Harry liked watching her. He wondered if it was the same way she felt when she watched him. People obviously fell in love with her the moment they spoke to her. Unironically, she was so sweet. Of course she was. It was like she was a sprinkles-fairy. This ethereal being that passed out sweet treats to everyone.

Ding.

With her back turned to get another bag, she didn’t notice the influx of new customers. When she turned back, her heart leapt to her throat. She was lucky she didn’t drop the dozen cookies she was packaging.

“Shit,” she whispered mostly to herself. He hadn’t seen her yet. Fortunately, it was crowded enough to hide behind her wall of customers. All the progress she had made, the classes thus far, all seemed for naught at that moment. Her gaze darted to Harry and Niall. They were unaware of the turmoil she was facing while she packaged treats for the next customer. Her stomach churned uneasily.

If Harry just looked at her, she knew he would know. “Hey Lexi!” She called toward the back room. But Harry was chatting with Niall. Niall was focused on his soda bread. Neither of them noticed the anxiety that swept over her. Lexi doesn’t answer at first. Making her more anxious and scared. It shouldn’t be that way. He shouldn’t ruin the one place she loved most.

Niall now had crumbs on his cheeks, but his head tilted curiously in the direction of her main display. “Harry, something’s wrong,” Niall’s voice was quiet.

Harry’s gaze snapped up defensively. Sure enough, her whole demeanor had changed. Harry could see it. Her smile was tight, and her eyes darted toward the door and the customer in front of her more times in ten seconds than Harry could ever begin to count. Harry wanted to kick himself. How long had she looked like that?

After an eternity, Lexi finally appeared. She mumbled something to her employee and headed to the back kitchen. Not even a glance in Harry’s direction. Without fanfare, without permission, Harry marched his way into the back almost as soon as she left his view.

“Excuse me,” Lexi said. “Hey, that’s employee—”

“He’s fine, Lexi,” she answered quietly.

Harry found her in the kitchen, hand clutching the front collar of her shirt, her eyes lit with anxiety while she paced back and forth. “Is he here?” He asked lowly, while she moved quickly across the kitchen.

She tried to remember the last time she felt safe. It was her dad, right? Her dad before...before everything. Before she moved her shop here. Before she uprooted her life.

But there were those brief moments where she was overcome with how safe she felt in Harry’s presence. Walking to his fight for the first time. Each time he walked her to her car. How his hand felt when he pressed her fingers into a fist.

She nodded, her eyes watering.

He spun almost immediately to do who knows what. He didn’t know and she certainly didn’t know.

“No, don’t leave me!” She practically shouted before he could hardly take a step further. She started to follow him but he stopped at the sound of despair in her voice.

Harry groaned lowly; it came out nearly as a growl. He turned back to her immediately as if it pained him. “M’never leaving you,” his eyes were so dark and desperate—her whole body felt heavy at the seriousness of his words. Breathless again. “Please don’t ask me that,” his eyes darted back toward the front of the bakery.

“Harry, please,” she whispered.

His hands were already balled into fists. He shook his head. “Cupcake,” he grumbled. It was such an oxymoron in itself. Harry was calling her one of the sweetest things in the world and it sounded downright terrifying.

“Please, Harry,” she begged, grabbing one of his closed fists. “I need you,” she whispered.

Groaning again, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine,” he snapped.

She felt bad making him stay. She knew she was forcing his hand, but she was scared. To soften the blow, she threw herself at him. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shirt. She sighed with relief with the feel of him: solid, warm, protective against her body. Harry was safe. He proved that already and she still hardly knew him. It wasn’t hard. It shouldn’t have been hard for her date to make her feel safe.

Harry was momentarily shocked before he returned the hug, one arm looped around her back, the other cupping the back of her head. It was like the antidote to an disease she didn’t know she had. Another loud sigh escaped her. Like the feeling of Harry was cause for another wave of relief.

“What did he do?” He mumbled into her hair. She ignored him and scrunched her eyes shut. “Please, Cupcake,” he begged. She realized she wanted to tell Harry.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I went out with him...I had met you and—”

“Doesn’t matter, kitten,” he shook his head. “He doesn’t get t’make y’feel unsafe,” he reminded her.

“It was such bad judgment.”

He shook his head again. “No, Cupcake. He doesn’t get t’make y’feel that way. S’not you. S’not asking a lot t’feel safe on a date. S’not even the bare minimum. Y’don’t have poor judgment. Your judgment got y’out of there that night. S’why y’signed up for classes and—”

It poured out of her at that moment. She told him everything. In the middle of the story, she tried to downplay it sensing the way his body tightened around her with every word. Explained why she signed up for the self-defense class. Every detail and emotion she felt for the last few weeks. How scared she was that very night. Why she requested Harry and chatted with him until three in the morning. How he made her feel better when she didn’t think she could. How safe she felt around him in general.

At the end, Harry pulled away from her.

Her heart felt heavy. Now he wouldn’t like her. She was broken and hurt. Harry didn’t want to be a bodyguard, nor should he have to be. “I need t’go to the gym,” he started toward the front, and she thought that was it. It was the last she would see of him. He was too overwhelmed with how stupid she was. This wasn’t what he wanted. Someone who couldn’t defend herself or be smart enough to see the signs earlier.

“Harry, I’m sorry—” She managed to croak with tears thick in her voice and vision. Right as he reached the threshold back to the front of the bakery. He was shaking. Every inch of him. She wondered how he wasn’t a blur from how much he shook. In the moment it took for the apology to form in her mouth, he was back in front of her.

He grabbed her firmly but still softly by the chin, held her sweet face between his palms. Gazed into her eyes and shook his head slowly. His eye contact was overwhelming but still felt so good. “You are to never. Ever. Apologize.” Her eyes welled with more tears. She couldn’t do anything but nod at him. Her heart felt so heavy and broken. But Harry was looking at her. Taking in every inch of her face and he sighed. “M’sorry, Cupcake; m'angry. But s'not something you need t'apologize for. Y'didn't do anything wrong. M'jus' mad I wasn't there for you,” he whispered and brought her back in to hold her against him once more. Her body felt relieved it was ridiculous for him to feel bad--he didn't even know she was going on a date. She didn't want him to feel bad.

"It's not your fault either," she whispered. Harry sighed with relief and he kissed the top of her hair.

She lost track of how long they stood there. It could have been two minutes or two hours. All she felt was Harry’s warm body against hers and reveled in how good it felt. “Call me a half hour before you’re ready to leave here. I’ll come walk you t’your car.”

She smiled softly, hoping to alleviate the tension now that a significant portion of time had passed. “Even if it’s in the middle of the night and—”

He didn’t think her joke was funny at all. “If y’call,” he repeated, interrupting her, his eyes were hard and serious. No room for joking at all. “I’ll be here.”

He was rapidly making her fall in love with him.

*

“Hey Dad,” she smiled softly sitting across from him at the dinner table. He grinned at her.

“Hey sweetie. How was your day?”

“Good! Did you see the game?” She asked. He nodded.

“Your guy did well, don’t you think?”

She laughed, shaking her head and blushed a bit. “Max Kepler is not my guy, Dad.”

“I didn’t say his name, honey,” he reminded her with a chuckle.

She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I met a guy, actually,” she rushed out quickly.

“Oh?” He looked at her curiously, tilted his head ever so slightly and smiled. “That’s nice, sweetie. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while. You need someone to...chat with, depend on,” he said knowingly. “I want to know you’re taken care of.”

“Dad, that is so 1950s of you. I don’t need a guy to take care of me.”

“Oh honey, I know you don’t. But I want you to have someone,” his voice was gentle.

For a moment she just looked at him. Thought long about all the things that had happened since she met Harry almost three months prior. It was a big deal to tell her dad about Harry. She wanted to make sure it was the right move especially after she was feeling poorly about her gut feeling. But she thought of Harry, the reassurance he gave her that it wasn’t her poor judgment that caused her bad date.

“His name is Harry. He’s a boxer,” she shrugged. “The raspberry filled cupcakes are his favorite.”

“Well, then he’s perfect. Right?”

She laughed, nodded, then bit her lip. “I mean...he’s...” she sighed forgoing all the details about how she was insane to let him steer her to his boxing match. How he helped her with self-defense classes. And why she was taking self-defense classes. No. She would tell him how they met another day. When Harry and she defined more of what their relationship was... if there was a relationship to be had. “I like him,” she admitted. “Then that’s all that really matters, honey,” he assured her. It felt like a blessing.

She couldn't wait to see Harry.

--

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[konigsblog]

simon riley as a dad.

a/n; in this, simon is a single dad. please leave requests in my inbox, they're always open !! will make a part two if requested !!!

second photo isn't mine, message me the creators name and i'll update it ☀️

simon was definitely nervous to become a father. the thoughts of becoming like his own plagued his mind, stress forming as the due date came closer.

his beautiful baby girl was born. wipsy blonde hair, eyes lile her mothes, a birthmark on her chest, above her heart. he couldn't help himself, sobbing whilst he held his newborn, his little girl immediately calming down as soon as she was placed on his hands, eyes widening and staring at him with adoration and love, raising her small hand to his cheek.

the only person that new about simon's daughter was price, a man he could trust. it wasn't that he couldn't trust johnny or kyle, it would be easier to tell price as simon himself viewed price as a father. showing him the polaroid photos of his girl, smiling underneath the mask while talking about her.

it's her first day if school, and simon is unsure if he can let her go. he watches as the other adults send their kids off, hugging them goodbye whilst they skipped into school. his eyes glistening, becoming glossy as he held her tight, rocking her from side to side, forcing his tears back before kissing her forehead.

- “dad, i met a boy in my class!!” she yells out, excited to have made a new friend. the word ‘boy’ lingers in his mind. boy, oh god.

helping her with her homework after school seems boring and uninteresting, but to simon, everything about his daughter is exciting and interesting, it's his favourite part of the day; waking up and greeting her, watching as she scoffs down her breakfast, laughing and giggling with him.

i think by the times johnny and kyle figure out simon has a daughter, she's probably be around four. they literally yelled, unsurprisingly and exactly how he thought they'd react. rolling his eyes, yet a smirk hidden under his skull mask. - “the fuck do you mean you have a daughter??”

she definitely looks up to him. talks about him constantly with her guy friend. mentions that she wanted to do what he does for work, causing simon to spit his tea our and nearly have a panic attack at the thought. curling up to her, letting her rest her head on his chest as she took an afternoon nap after school, playing with her dirty blonde hair.

soap meeting her for the first time was definitely something.. he literally was jumping up and down the entire time, launching himself at the poor little girl infront of him, sobbing and whining because she didn't know who this freak was.

calmed down after simon explained that he was his colleague. price scolding him, simon glaring, kyle trying his absolute hardest not to start crying from laughter. - “oh my god, you're simons daughter!?!” johnny screams.

played games with kyle. beat him every single time - got accused of cheating.

price is calm, probably met her before the rest, letting her sit next to him while she talks about the her friend. raising his eyebrow to simon teasingly as she mentions the same boy, laughing at his expression, angered and terrified of a four year old - probably threatens to beat him up before reminded that was a kid.

as the future comes, she gets a boyfriend, and unexpectedly, and unsurprisingly, it's that same boy. literally is gritting his teeth and lecturing her. - “careful, kid. i know you think you love him, but he could be a shit person, 'alright? i'm not gonna let some boy hurt and ruin my daughter.” - “dad, im literally five.”

johnny becomes close with her (after attacking her) letting her out make-up on him. eyeshadow on his cheeks, lip stick on his eyes, false eyelashes on his lips. and kyle has a botched manicure, some nails placed on his palm.

- i can't be bothered adding anything more since it's nighttime, and i'm pretty tired 😵‍💫 tell me your thoughts and opinions ! :)

- will make a part two if wanted and requested.

[anashins]

hii, can I request a jealous jaehyun when his gf agrees to catching up w her guy friend who swiped up on her story & did not tell Jaehyun, causing him to find out when she posts something? Hehe :)

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: fluff, romance, a bit suggestive in the end

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Jaehyun tries to record a new song in the studio. But how is he supposed to sing a passionate love ballad while thinking about the girl he loves, when she is currently out there, enjoying herself with another guy?

A/N: Thank you for requesting! Are we all living the same life at the moment? This is real conversation I had just yesterday!

“That was shit.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes as he heard Taeyong’s voice over the headphones. His leader was standing next to their voice coach at the other side of the studio’s glass front, observing him recording his part for a song on their new album. 

“It’s been going on for an hour already,” Taeyong commented sharply and wanted to lock eyes with Jaehyun, but the latter looked away, partially in anger, partially in shame. “You were so close to where we wanted to have you in the beginning, but ever since the break, you’re getting worse. Why can’t you concentrate?”

Perhaps because his girlfriend hadn’t replied to him since last night and then perhaps because during the break, he had found out through an instagram story of hers that she was meeting up with some guy he had never heard about before.

Jaehyun was fuming inwardly since his messages on their texting app still showed the little “1” next to them, indicating that his girlfriend hadn’t even read anything he had written yet. Instead, she was having a great time with a tall guy she hadn’t even linked in the story, so Jaehyun wasn’t able to stalk his profile. 

From what she had posted though, standing close to him at a popular street in their city, he had his hand on her shoulder and his hat pulled deep into his face. Without even knowing his looks, Jaehyun could sense that he was very good looking. Though, at this point, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact fact that made him so mad.

Was it because his girlfriend seemingly ignored him? The fact that she met up with a random guy without telling him beforehand? Because they seemed so close?

“I can’t’, I’m sorry.”

How could he sing a passionate love ballad when there was a storm going on inside of him? 

Jaehyun took off the headphones and stormed out of the recording room. By the time he had reached the outside, he could finally tell what was bothering him so much: 

He always told her what he was doing, where he was going, and asked her about her day despite having little to no time sometimes. And she couldn’t even clear ten seconds off her time schedule to do the same? On the commute? During a walk?

With shaky hands, Jaehyun pulled his phone out of his pocket and wanted to try something one last time. 

He called her.

After twenty seconds, his call declined and his stomach dropped simultaneously.

-

Jaehyun thought hard about whether he should pick up the phone when his girlfriend called later that evening. But he was only hurt, not an ass and wanted to hurt his girl back.

She had already answered to his texts, something along the lines of “Hey, sorry, I was busy, I randomly met my friend” and was quick to call an hour later when she saw that he hadn’t opened the messages yet, inviting herself over since she was close and he had finished recording earlier. 

“Hey,” he said when he let her in.

“Hey, how is it going? How was your day?”

She sounded so happy as she followed him into his room, and he gulped, a bit of regret over his feelings already starting to seep in. “My day was fine. And yours?”

Jaehyun was trying really hard to sound casual as usual, but his voice never betrayed him. His girlfriend already sensed that something was entirely wrong, she knew him so very well. “Are you okay?” 

“No,” he admitted. 

“Why? What’s wrong?”

There was no reason to conceal or downplay the truth. “You didn’t write to me the entire day and instead were out with some guy I never saw before. It didn’t sit right with me.”

She furrowed, but quickly understood. “Jaehyun, are you jealous? You know there is nothing to be jealous about. It was an old friend from my hometown who spent a few days here, and he hit me up randomly on Instagram when he realized that I live here too from a posting earlier. I wanted to tell you tonight, there was just not much time before. He asked if I can show him a good place to buy souvenirs today. It was very spontaneous as I saw his messages directly after waking up and he’s leaving again this evening, so I hurried. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to contact you earlier.”

“Jealous…? That’s not it.”

Jaehyun, too, had thought that he was jealous. But he, in fact, wasn’t. He had actually never been. It wasn’t about whether he was scared if she was cheating. He trusted her fully and didn’t have a bad feeling, not even once for the entire time they had been together. The unsettling feeling still lingered though.

So what was it that truly bothered him?

With a nod, he signed that she should seat herself on his bed, and he eventually did the same. 

“Sometimes, it feels like we’re living two different lives.”

His girlfriend tilted her head in confusion when he paused. “Can you elaborate that?”

“When we’re working, meeting with friends or doing other stuff, separately from each other, I always try to include you, send you pictures, tell you where I go and with whom. Not because I’m afraid you could be jealous or demand it from me, but because I want you to be there with me, even though you’re physically not.”

She nodded. “I understand that.”

“And most of the time, for you, I see what you’re up to only when you upload a story or someone else I also follow. I understand that you’re rather a person living in the moment and not focussing on the phone while with others. That’s a great quality. But at times like these… I always feel like I’m not included in your life. I don’t want to complain, I just want to convey my feelings. We already have so little time together due to my occupation, so that makes me feel even more… excluded, I think.“

Jaehyun could almost physically feel how a huge burden got lifted off his shoulders. It dawned on him how long he had been carrying this feeling around that his heart felt so much lighter after telling his girlfriend. 

“Do you think I’m not feeling the same?” she asked and took his hand into hers. “Because I do! Whenever we have a time like this in which we can see each other only seldomly, I try meeting friends often, because I feel lonely and sad without you. And trust me when I say that whatever I do and whomever I do it with, I always think it would be much more fun with you by my side. I try to only concentrate on that moment and activity to not feel as sad. I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun blinked in disbelief. “I… didn’t know. Don’t be sorry about that!”

“Did you think I don’t care? That you’re not on my mind all the time?” She arose and placed her palms on each side of his face. “Because you are. The amount of times I text and call you cannot compare to the times I think of you. Even though I might not be able to convey this feeling whenever you feel abandoned, trust me in that. I carry them all in my heart. Please believe me.”

Jaehyun’s features softened along with his heart. “I believe you.”

If it was like this, then it was fine for him. 

If the anxiety got the better of him again though, he would directly call her, and she promised to call him back immediately when she could. She couldn’t fully promise to always inform him about her plans beforehand, because sometimes, there was such a mess and so much hectic going on in her head. But she promised to do whenever she thought about it and asked him to please not take it to his heart too much. 

In addition, they promised to never miss leaving the other some loving words by the end of each day.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s waist when she climbed into his lab. With a smirk, he asked, “How can you fully convince me how much you always miss and love me? I think I still have doubts…”

“How much time do you have?” she chuckled before letting herself fall on top of him and they both landed on the mattress.

“The entire night.”

“That’s enough, hopefully.”